colony of bugs
sand-built city in the rocks
dressed in luscious moss
colony of bugs
sand-built city in the rocks
dressed in luscious moss
the wind blown out
occasional cars pass by
a single dog barks
honest crinkly smile
the mystery of the mask
his eyes reading hers
a flurry of snow
the beauty of pink petals
cradled in white down
red geranium
wearing snowflakes as a hood
winter meets summer
below my window
words floating on cloudy breath
ice crunches underfoot
silent skies once more
working through the alphabet
pause and whisper O
the birds admiring
a morning so bright and fresh
share their joyful song
a bright golden dawn
frost-pinched landscape white and black
a sparrow chirping
the first winter storm
wind’s cold breath blowing through cracks
a warm cat snoring
I dream so I write ..
“Wings are an illusive notion. Some may possess them, but they are not very visible, and as for me, there isn’t the least sign of a feather.” -Amy Carmichael
New Ideas, New Forms
Musings from an insignificant writer
14 hectares of thrills, spills and fun!
A Journal of Poetic Observations
Pictures and Poetry, Picture Poetry
My Journey on the Lonely Road to Deaf Acceptance
Ellen Grace Olinger