Brush aside the nettles, you’ll find periwinkle petals
Spring delights in making mischief with thee
For the force inside the stem of a faerie diadem
Is the truest source of Q.R.V.
nature
December’s Bud
Planted long ago
What’s darkest burgeons in the chill
In the forgotten flower pot
Atop the unspoiled hill
She greets the moon on certain nights
Blooming in the still
December’s bud lasts winter long
Nourished by her will
Possibility
Possibility
The very word born of the trees
Give her seeds, without a doubt
She’ll plant your dreams, and they will sprout
Waterfall
A triptych of earth and water and sun
That all other beauty should be undone
Springtime
Springtime lies in every season
Even now it hides with reason
To surprise winter in treason
Cotton Clouds
30,000 feet above,
Life isn’t what it seems
Between the moon and cotton clouds
Is where he’s hid his dreams
Blueberry
The sorriest sight
That I can remember:
A ripened blueberry
Unpicked in December
An Ounce of Spring
In each of his smiles,
There’s one ounce of spring
I should like to discover
What summertime brings
Serendipity (2)
Serendipity
The very word born of the sea
The when of who and what will be
Navigates the North inside of me
M Theory
Thoughts are things
Interlacing strings
Sacred vibrations
Imaginations
malarky musings 