Its an evening that the honeysuckle has to itself,
in unexpected corners,
found still and half sunlit,
pouring itself unexpected, scented, vibrant,
silent.
each moment its own saviour
each instant new with ripplefurled leaf and petal thriving and striving, hearing what we cannot,
still knowing what we have forgot
Roots in earth, flower in time with the sky,
our forgotten time, that we just let slip right by......
Well..... wow!
Beautifully put stree...................you paint a lovely picture with you words
xx
Lovely words beautiful thoughts too! Our honeysuckle will keep offering succour to the bees for a wee while yet.
Wow & wow, how good at painting with words are you! xx
I could paint you a butterfly.....
That's beautiful Stree, and butterflies more yes please!!!😀 xxx
Perhaps sweetpeas before butterflies.....
On another forum, far far away, and more concerned with the esoteric than health, someone asked "What is joy"
I set to answering in an instant, and without pause for thought or reflection, wrote the following:
The sweetpeas today, had the ruby velvet of a great Aunts best dress,
The blue of the Norfolk sky at dawn, the sweet pink of my Grandaughters cheek ,
the deep cream of a young Bucks fur covered horn,
I gazed at these with a clear sky behind,
I was lost in the wonder and the world was left .....
This is Joy, being part of the day.
This is Joy,
Being part of the Way.
A butterfly moment
Ode to Christmas.
Some Days depression gone
