the lane

When I was lost,
I wandered
Through golden boughs
As the sun set,
Knowing that the path
I chose
Would lead me to
A place to make
My stand,
And find myself.

Wednesdays Visual Writing Prompt

Sunday Trees, a poem and a photograph

There you stand, arms outstretched,
Gathering the last sun of a season
As the cold moves with infinite patience.
The crystals of frost will soon haunt you.
They spread from dawn to dusk, and infiltrate
Your woods at night to decorate with lacy
Precision, precision which creates chill and ice.
But beneath the earth, you grow and shiver
Living like ants on the stored food in your veins.
Your tenants, the squirrels follow your lead and nap.
Their nests decorating during the winter,
A barren decoration, brown, gray, but hopeful.
You create the roots of spring while waiting,
While knitting through the winter months.
Arms outstretched you gather the last rays, knitting,
Before the sunset of autumn and the dawn of winter.



Photo Prompt: Sunset Gold

The photo that the prompt is written on can be found at the link below:

Thursday photo prompt – Anomaly #writephoto

At dusk, everything is golden. The sun stretches, reaches long fingers to the land. One last caress to her children, one last kiss. Out there in the distance, they normally turned their heads away, as children do. It’s all part of the cycle of growing up. She never resented that. Tonight, though, she heard a sound, a coo perhaps of happiness, and turning saw a reflection of her own love reflected back at her. This was special, something she would see after a storm in the middle of the day. Musical notes added to the coo, until at last all of the sun’s errant children sang to her glory. Smiling at the rainbow, she clucked her tongue and tucked them into bed. Her sister the moon would protect them tonight.

The Alone

I work in my garden, alone,
But for bees that communicate 
Satisfaction with my efforts. 

The neighbors whisper and watch, 
Looking for an error, a stagger, 
Never once caring for more than gossip. 

I live alone in a house of people, 
Never noticed, never seen, 
The dust is my intimate friend. 

I watch the sunset from my window, 
Its golden light illuminating my 
Loneliness, I wish and dream. 

I had a friend once, 
He as golden as the sun. 
He left like all the others, without a storm. 

He was beautiful, rich, 
Filled with ideas to make the world better. 
As my world collapsed in tears, he left. 

Gold sunshine will return at sunset, 
Not always there, but returning 
To give me a kiss of hope. 

The neighbors will talk, and 
I will freeze Like a rabbit before the fox. 
Let them talk, I am deaf to them now.

discover-badge-circle (February 2nd, 2016)