August’s Pages

She has a way about her Hot-tempered She boils and stirs The air Until heavy and thick Weighted In the intensity We bow Resigned to knowing Mere flowers, we are Dried between August’s pages An homage to her When the calendar reflects The depths of wintertime

Spring Sings

If you haven’t heard There’s a new song It’s a song of inclusion Where all belong Where all blossom Beautiful and bright In response to the rain With respect to the light It’s sung by birds Percussion by bees Backing vocals By whispering breeze It’s playing on repeat If you care to hear But don’t… Read More Spring Sings

Don’t Pick the Flowers

Don’t pick the flowers Just let them be A pretty gathering For all to see Let them paint a picture Upon a hill With petal brushes With determined wills To stay lovely To stand strong Through wind and storm They’ll carry on Destined to be Something beautiful For you and me