Time ticks
east to west
I remain stationary
Category Archives: whimsy
Birdsong
(starling: internet photo)
Little songbird pretends to be a cat.
Shadow of an eagle looms overhead,
peacock plumage in the trash.
Caw of a crow,
magpie screech,
you search for your sound.
Whistle of a robin,
chatter of a chick-a-dee,
what will be your melody?
Wind gusts an arrow at your throat.
A bruised song unburdens.
A ripple courses through the leaves.
Spiders glint on diamond webs.
Love rings your little beak.
Fletched feathers of your arrow
shatter the fake cat.
Your chirp roars.
Vibrations
In every heart there is a secret nerve that answers to the vibrations of beauty. (Christopher Morley)
Masaru Emoto studied water crystals to prove his idea that “everything is a combination of energetic vibration. When some vibration and the other resonate, it always creates a beautiful design.” Dr Emoto produced stunning photos of water crystals to prove his theory.
White Ignited
(personal photo collection)
Sun hangs low
to touch a perfect, empty continent.
Evening arches through snow
with deep gratitude blush.
Sea froth and foam
rolls sky’s glow.
Wind howls spray over bow
in fiery reds and shades of orange.
I stand balanced.
Red Lips
cool winter sun
– red lips flake
path to car
Nunataks
(photos: personal collection)
licorice spires
peak confection snow
with salty delight
nature’s sweet and savory concoction
ices polar adventure
Elegant Shades
(Antarctic ice bergs: personal photos)
dancing element
teases with light and shadows
energetic drama
Antarctic Blue
(internet photo)
Blue coaxes me to morning.
A midnight nudge to peacock blush.
Full moon grins with Antarctic brush.
Glacial silt blue,
sapphire blue,
blue topaz,
blue spiralling over aquamarine.
Blue striations on white tabular berg,
artesian blue;
blue eyed shag’s gaze
pierces my day.
The Pen, My Friend
The pen, my friend, lays quiet.
Aches for my touch.
I ignore it.
Too busy.
I flit here and there,
a gnat disturbing activities
just enough to be annoying
but not enough to make
a lasting difference.
My friend, the pen, waits.
Silent.
Until I have no choice
but to return.
I see her lying there calm and quiet.
I return to unleash chaos.
I splash ink across the page.
I saturate white with explosive ideas.
Thoughts that have been
hibernating, dormant,
hovering on the cusp of awareness,
release.
A frenzy of strokes and letters
circle up and down
until my pen begs to be put down.
It cries to be ignored again
so it can catch its breath,
relax,
dissolve into peace.
Your Mission
Hello All,
Today I want to share a quote that made me smile. Have a great week!
“Here is the test to find whether your mission on earth is finished:
if you are alive, it isn’t.” – Richard Bach
ScribbleDartsfromtheHeart 