a cloud
drifted over
hovered still
and held fast
the wind
blew through my garden
and the grasses
took it in and
waved golden fingers
that tugged and pulled
at the deep blue sheets of sky
and of course the russian sage
drew pale purple fingers
across the scattering clouds
scattering
oh yes
for all the while the sky
was crowding full
of stories
waiting to break
each beginning with the word
"evening"
8 comments:
Fantastically beautiful post. It sounded as though the sky were sheets being pulled up to keep the wind from scattering the clouds initially. The purple sage trying to stay the chaos. It seemed as if they were waiting for the crowded sky to tell a bedtime story. That was my first take on this poem. I don't think that is what you were trying to convey but it was a fun image to work with. Your photos are just lovely!.
Noelle
noelle thankyou so much for your effusive comment!!! i had no plan with the words. much like the photographs they tell so many stories and yours is as lovely as the one i now see in my own mind. thanks so much. steven
Those golden and purple fingers are fantastically beautiful, against the clouds, that are themselves a revelation! Then the simple declaration that they were all stories, beginning with the word "evening" felt just like . . . well . . . ahhhh.
You bowl me over with beauty. (Not just today. . . each and every time I visit).
such beauty once again, such thoughtfulness.
You have the eyes and the soul of a poet, steven.
I too have a Russian sage waving its long tentacles in the breeze in my garden. Perovskia is a gorgeous plant, delicate and colourful at the same time.
beautiful pics as always.
..crowded full with stories, waiting to break…wow - powerful words!
You've outdone yourself with this post Steven. Just lovely. I adore the image of the grass's golden fingers.
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