This morning the dew sparkled on the fresh-grown grass and the yellow tulip I have been observing, has opened into full-flower and spun its gold into the universe as a way of reducing the damage. A young Cardinal sang its first spring song, which was returned in kind. While I sat contemplating nature’s gifts the […]
To Christopher Robin When Winnie the Pooh and you walked all over the hundred-acre wood, his sniff, sniff, sniffing to find honey was on the money. I have not met a bear, anywhere who could compare to Pooh. How does he do it? His prowess to find a hive and dive deep into that golden
When baby sleeps; her bright head nodding on your shoulder, her hair gently tickling your neck and chin with downy feathers, her breath quick, then slow – a gentle in and out of a silent summer’s eve. Her baby sweat like dew on dawn’s meadow rises, filling your nostrils with its sweet smell
