Stormy is the Skye

Foreboding

Furrowing its brow

Cold wind rushes past 

Deluging me with loneliness somehow 

Water and Light

Myst and Light 

Arranged just right

A fanciful delyte

A promise given

By Love driven

Motion: The Power of Movement

Fields of Gold

May my alotment be

To walk hand in hand with you

My one true love

Walking

amongst the fields of gold

The setting sun

In the  pinking skye

To warm our souls

To flare our love

As we walk in fields of gold

Golden Fields

A Path well Traveled

Sun beaming hot

Shady trees

A beckoning spot

A field of orange poppies...

I would surely choose

Over parties glowing bright

Shouting in the night.

A field of orange poppies

A whisper of the wind

Blue skies over me

and a field of orange poppies

A rapture of beauty I see

The Road to My Heart...

An Odd Mix...

of Life and Death exists.
Life,
Springing from dust
Moistened by the Kiss of God

The unused, left behind

Decomposes

Yet is still worth something

Forsaken by Man

Yet

Blessed by God

To Nourish the Earth

To be reborn

In better form