Thursday, July 31, 2008

Sometimes The Words Are Enough of A Picture

Your hands lie open in the long fresh grass,
The finger-points look through like rosy blooms:
Your eyes smile peace.

The pasture gleams and glooms 'Neath billowing skies
that scatter and amass.
All round our nest, far as the eye can pass,
Are golden kingcup-fields with silver edge
Where the cow-parsley skirts the hawthorn-hedge.

Tis visible silence, still as the hour-glass.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828-82)

1 comment:

barbara burkard said...

A Bark of Skin

Strength gained
over the days of time.
Count the lines
circling the years,
one upon one layers,
embellishing the journey.
Standing tall, with a slight bend,
in the breeze.
Give and Take.
Arms outstretched
praising the sky.

Wrinkles calloused with
weatherbeaten
trials and tribulations.
She cradled yet another family
nested beneath her wings.

An angel with roots so deep
she was unable to fly.