the coldness of
an empty lap
old cat hairs
trickles from icicles
time floats away
Birds leave footprints
in this powder puff dream
I pinch myself
my dreams roam too far from me
trampling lush heather
Often in springtime
scents of favourite flowers
push back to winter
Walking though the world
hand in hand with nature’s woes
a cool breeze still blows
Privileged to touch
rough, wrinkled bodies of logs
reminds me of life
Inspired by Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941)
Those who plant the trees
To grow inquisitive roots
Will never know shade
Excuse my misleading tags: WordPress is now having an invisible man hissy fit. I cannot see or delete what I am typing for them… hence my absence, among other things.
Picture: Pixabay snow fox-writingasitcomes-snow
Black frigid snow stares
Streaming arctic fountain floes
Fur lines the tundra
Arctic hunter’s bow
January’s polar child
I am a fox
I am January
I am a polar child
I am snow
Distant voles quiver
Magnetic sense tickles ears
I can hear you
Oh my lonely lap
Winter’s icy breath chased you
Now we both tremble
by *paige six
... from a silent space
The Broken Cannot Rise Alone...
A Repository of Discarded Poetry, Story Prompts, and Memories
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Pain goes in, love comes out.
Just wondering at the miracle called LIFE .
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poetry by Robert Ford
Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence.
In the end all you want is a pen that writes well and a life that you've lived well.
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Poetry, story and real life. Once soldier, busnessman, grandfather and Poet.