morning mist hovers
clouds dusted with pastel hues
oh sweet amelia
morning mist hovers
clouds dusted with pastel hues
oh sweet amelia
whispering oak trees
shadows dance ‘neath worn porch boards
southern secrets sleep
golden rays ignite
painting brilliance to my eyes
morning has broken
solitary boat
resting ‘neath the fiery sky
embracing twilight
nested in a tree
mama bird feeds hungry beaks
love in every tweet
breathtaking sunset
with silhouetting palm trees
magical moment
by the sea, they land
tiny feet grabbing shore sand
mating season clan
seen by captive eyes
through lily pads and reeds
the magic of light
a slow walk across
an unmerciful desert
broken heart journey
circling around, i
eagle, tornado, or song
circling around me
if not woodpecker
tapping on old oak, no sound
at the tiny house
from glacial shore stance
watching a drifting iceberg
float past frozen toes
the katydids’ sing
among swaying seas of grass
as i walk their path
staring out at sea
a man ponders, turns to flee
mindful escapee
in Colorado
on a steep sloping hill stands
a world of comfort
looking up to view
towering trees with large heads
swaying against blue
echoes from geckos
revivals, southern bibles
overgrown tombstones
high-speed internet
for wandering satellites
refuge from the road
the old windmill spins
as howling westwinds rush by
an empty porch chair
the marvelous view
soaring high, floating freely
freedom is a bird