Page 2
* * *
The sun returns from its
nightly journey,
Rising slowly, majestically
Saying,- "Here I am-"
No wonder primitive people
Worshipped this welcome guest.
* * *
Grey, Grey, Grey, Grey
That is all I have to say,
Too much talk, not enough play
Surely makes for an exhausting day!!
* * *
March is blowing the cobwebs
away,
Forsythia and daffodils
Shining in their yellow glory
March is happy.
* * *
Glorious bright sun shining
through my window.
My glass rose is deep ruby red.
The sun blinds my eyes trying to see
A world of green grass and yellow blooms
And blue skies-soft white clouds.
Who could know how cold it is out there?
Thank you Lord for this day, and the refreshing sleep.
* * *
A perfectly brilliant
orange red sun was waiting
On my shaggy black sky brushed horizon,
With strips of soft blue and pinks above the clouds.
The sun goes on.
* * *
Something told me to awake
To see the glorious light
That shines above my greening trees.
Oh lucky me
To see the birds
Prance across this sky.
* * *
The yellow, white, and
rose
And the pink and white tulips
Sit proudly in my pewter vase.
The sun appears to be warm
As the rays rest on the flower's petals.
They soon forget the 36 degree weather,
From which they had been rescued.
* * *
My world is fog encased
today.
The birds and I share a very intimate space.
I was sitting on the blue and white outside chair,
At the top of my driveway watching for the paper person
Who did not arrive.
There is one morning dove cooing his heart out-
I don't think he stops for a breath
Besides the dove, there is a light chorus
Getting ready to welcome the sunrise.
* * *
Black shadows along the
horizon,
Tall black pines against the light blue skies,
The spring has come and gone.
Last night's sky was sparkling
With brilliant stars against the dark blue sky.
The rainy day was cozy
A good day for decorating Easter Eggs.
* * *
I have a contented feeling
Surrounded by the soft morning mist.
The trees have no outlines
The mist transforms them into a blur
Of various shapes blending into one another
Making an enclosure against the sky.
The Eastern dawn holds a hint of rose hue.
* * *
He restoreth my soul!
After sitting outside watching the day arrive
I walked into my cheery kitchen,
Filled with warmth and the delicious frangrance
Of coffee brewing.
The birds performed an energetic ballet,
Accompanied by a full chorus of
Birds and geese.
The edge of my world presented a glorious pallet,
The colors were hues of pinks, blues, lavenders,
Changing shape and color every second.
The air was cool, moist and refreshing,
Yellow daffodils and blue crocus were my companions.
No sound of cars disturbed our hearing.
I am refreshed, my soul is full.
* * *
What a day!
The pine and fir trees are silhouetted
Against a pale rosy hue.
Only on the tree crests is it rosy.
There is an island of dark grey blue,
In the shape of Halley's Comet, with seven tails,
Right at the tree tops.
The birds have their choir at dawn,
Unconcerned for the problems of the world,
Thank you God for singing birds.
* * *