The sun spills forth, adding its sheen
to the already
sparkling green of
ground and trees. A
hummingbird darts, iridescent,
among the twist
of fuchsia flowered
vines. The day draws
to a shimmering close as light
skips across the
pond and starts its
slow slide toward home.
JDG
Deep roots and flexibility
help us survive
high winds intact.
Anchored firmly
in something vaster than ourselves,
we can respond
to the slightest
shift of wind or
weather while providing shelter
for our friends – those
who walk on two
legs or on four.
JDG
A soft paw gently touched my face,
coaxing me to
wake and fill her
empty dish. Would
that other requests to fill an
emptiness were
made with so much
care, especially
when they come from me. Given
tenderness and
time, the filler
becomes the filled.
JDG
“Consider the lilies…” the wise
one said and my
thoughts turned to those
wild flowers
I saw along the road today.
Morning brought warm
sunlight and the
afternoon brought
wind and rain, yet through it all these
simple flowers
sang a constant
song of delight.
JDG
I had to take a breath and dive
deep down today.
Non-stop children’s
chatter came in
endless waves and the only way
out was down where
I would have liked
to stay but for
the lingering lure of habit
demanding I
react and take
no time for breath.
JDG
What they didn’t see when they looked
was me. Their eyes
took in the gray
and only saw
one of a group called “old”. Unless
they look both wide
and deep, what they’ll
see is more a
matter of them than me. The same
also is true
of me when I
see only “young”.
JDG
Sitting in the morning quiet,
my granddaughter
and I write, she
her fantasy
novel and I my daily poem.
Storms are forecast
for later in
the day, but for
now there’s only an occasional
sigh when the right
word is hiding
just out of sight.
JDG
A bank of wild daffodils
overlooking
a gentle sea ~
a young girl, poised
to take that first delicious bite,
a large apple
in her hands ~ a
big red balloon,
untethered, drifting out to sea,
one delight let
go to take hold
of another.
JDG
After the gold of daffodils,
forsythia,
and buttercups
comes the wild white
of Queen Anne’s Lace and daisies, the
sweet abandon
of clover. Through
every season’s
shifting hues, holly stands constant
and true, bearing
gifts of green to
those wandering.
JDG
Some days are like that. The gray hangs
on. The rain won’t
stop. The birds don’t
sing. The kids start
their steady pick, pick, pick, and all
stations are turned
to squawk. Dogs mope.
Cats sigh. Still, on
the evergreens, blue berries
shine and ravens
take to flight on
glistening wings.
JDG
aholdingplace 