Hello to poetry!

I love it here
this is the place
to try my hand
and show my face
but I’m afraid

so many here
have much to say
write lovely words
I read and pray
that I may too

and know my words
might touch a heart
or prompt a laugh
or tear apart
some thought that’s blind

finding friends like this
a special way
to meet and greet
so come what may
must learn my part
make bid to stay

Ode to a fickle spring

when seedlings from the nursery

are chosen in variety

timing is key


we wait for spring all winter through

when plants make plans to grow anew

and hope does too


but when to plant is quite an art

this year our spring was late to start

and all lost heart


some plants were killed off by the frost

through savage winds more blooms were lost

we count the cost


Poppies (1914 – 2019)

a poppy seed flies in the wind
and landing lightly on the earth
lies waiting for sun’s energy
to germinate and give it birth

a droplet falls from rainy skies
weak sunlight warming with its rays
until in spring new growth begins
it’s bloom sublime on summer days

blood red a field of poppies shine
each one a hundred others yield
these symbols ever in our hearts
of all who die on Flanders field