SENTINELS, by ROSE PARKWOOD Oh line of trees all dark and green Like stately sentinels you stand — God’s mystery to the world you bring, God’s presence to the land! So straight and free, So still and dark, God’s sentinels you stand. Your leafiness makes one forget The […]
Sonnet 73 by William Shakespeare That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see’st the twilight of such […]
“The owl,” he was saying, “is one of the most curious creatures. A bird that stays awake when the rest of the world sleeps. They can see in the dark. I find that so interesting, to be mired in reality when the rest of the world is dreaming. […]
A wise old owl lived in an oak The more he saw the less he spoke The less he spoke the more he heard. Why can’t we all be like that wise old bird?
Old Rag Mountain in Shenandoah National Park is a geological wonder. I Choose the Mountain Howard Simon The low lands call I am tempted to answer They are offering me a free dwelling Without having to conquer The massive mountain makes its move Beckoning me to ascend A […]
And the trees began to change. Like all things, nothing stands still. Nothing remains the same. Not the earth, not the sky. It all evolves, becoming something new.
I had been told that the training procedure with cats was difficult. It’s not. Mine had me trained in two days. Bill Dana
It was a beach ballet at Sandy Point Park with the Laughing gulls. They expressed their inner ballerina and posed and jumped into the wind feeling free. ———————————- He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and […]
I’ll plant and water, sow and weed, Till not an inch of earth shows brown, And take a vow of each small seed To grow to greenness and renown: And then some day you’ll pass my way, See gold and crimson, bell and star, And catch my garden’s […]
Peacocks By Rose Fyleman (1877-1957) PEACOCKS sweep the fairies’ rooms; They use their folded tails for brooms; But fairy dust is brighter far Than any mortal colours are; And all about their tails it clings In strange designs of rounds and rings; And that is why they strut […]
Emily Carter ~ Nature as Art 