I grow roses to remember
a beloved grandmother
the dreams of innocence
the blush of summer love
I grow roses to believe
that life has purpose
and time has no end
and love defies boundaries.
I grow roses to understand
that beauty and pain coexist
and life is about cycles
and simple things have great value.
(Linking up with Eugi’s Causerie, prompt: blush. Image from personal collection.)
Midwinter light breaks
monotony of grey – tree
dances in glimmer.
(For Eugi’s Causerie weekly prompt: glimmer. Image from personal collection.)
“Let’s play!” honked the goose
to the duck, duck, duck,
“I’ll hide and you come find me.”
“Let’s dance!” sang the tree
to the icy river flow,
as sun smiled broadly.
“Come find joy! Nature whispers
bright skies parting winter blues,
white radiance leading the way.
(Poem and photos for Cee’s On The Hunt for Joy challenge and Nancy Merrill’s A Photo a Week challenge: at play.)
A murder of crows
observes my passage,
anchors my presence
In nature, I trust –
all else is noise.
(Visit me on Twitter for more poetry snippets. @Vjknutson. Image from personal collection.)
My heart is a brook,
joyous as a child’s song,
memories like moss
warm my wintry verges –
luminescence from within.
(For RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku challenge:Â brook/ moss; and Eugi’s weekly prompt: luminescent.)
How a single ray of light
slips through a thicket
setting a leafy row ablaze,
How the kingfisher’s trill
echoes off the silken waters,
How our love remains despite
the ills that pursue us –
Glorious mystery.
(Image from personal collection.)
I am Earth
Giver of life
aligned with elements
both protect and ravage
all bear scars
this is the process
I am Mother
womb and tomb
be thankful.
(Tuesdays, I borrow a poem from my Twitter account @Vjknutson. Photo from personal collection.)
Ruthless Winter blows
unceremoniously
intense – leaves a mess.
(For RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Challenge: mess/intense; and for BrewNSpew’s weekly prompt: ceremony. Â Image from personal collection.)
Full sun,
river dons an icy blue,
white banks blind,
light hits water –
bedazzled burst –
I seek an angle.
Banditry of chickadees
noisily arrives
dance their joyous jig –
too slow my lens
Movement on a bare bark
draws my focus,
a brown creeper –
I am lucky this time
delightful noonday capture.
A succession of tweets
draws me to riverbed
where tiny legs scurry
across exposed rocks.
Foraging amongst
soggy offerings,
the Spotted Sandpiper
exudes confidence.
It is female who
choses breeding ground,
prepared to defend
her clan, appoints
her mates to mind
the young – she is
polyamorous, hormone
driven – a force.
(For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day.)
One Woman's Quest 