I have a new book with my photographs and digital art and poems. Check it out at http://www.blurb.com/b/4821041-reflections-of-an-artist
Perhaps you have someone on your Christmas list that would appreciate the book.
My first “Reflections of an Artist” book of some of my paintings with poems is still available for sale. It contains some of the posts you have enjoyed on my blog.
Check it out at http://www.blurb.com/b/4218560-reflections-of-an-artist
On the twelfth day before Christmas, my backyard gave to me
A flock of hungry Sparrows, it’s true.
On the eleventh day before Christmas, my backyard gave to me
A frightened Opossum,
And a flock of hungry sparrows, it’s true.
On the tenth day before Christmas, my backyard gave to me
Ten Juncos feeding,
And a flock of hungry sparrows, it’s true.
On the ninth day before Christmas, my backyard gave to me
Nine Titmice hopping,
And a flock of hungry sparrows, it’s true.
On the eighth day before Christmas, my backyard gave to me
Eight Chickadees flying,
And a flock of hungry sparrows, it’s true.
On the seventh day before Christmas, my backyard gave to me
Seven sets of deer tracks,
And a flock of hungry sparrows, it’s true.
On the sixth day before Christmas, my backyard gave to me
Six squirrels a-nibbling,
And a flock of hungry sparrows, it’s true.
On the fifth day before Christmas, my backyard gave to me
Five Cardinals in the maple tree,
And a flock of hungry sparrows, it’s true.
On the fourth day before Christmas, my backyard gave to me
Four Blue jays calling,
And a flock of hungry sparrows, it’s true.
On the third day before Christmas, my backyard gave to me
Three Woodpeckers pecking,
And a flock of hungry sparrows, it’s true.
On the second day before Christmas, my backyard gave to me
Two Mourning Doves,
And a flock of hungry sparrows, it’s true.
On the first day before Christmas, my backyard gave to me
A Wren, an empty bird-feeder,
And a flock of hungry sparrows, it’s true.
Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and Happy Holidays to all my WordPress friends.
“Tattered Butterfly” – Photograph
Flitter about
Wings torn and tattered.
Flitter about
As if it not mattered
When I am old
Hope I can be
Half as
Energetic as he.
Hot Chocolate - photograph
Hot chocolate,
A cozy comfy chair,
It’s cold outside
I’m glad I ‘m not out there.
Marshmallow showman
Melting fast
I knew he
Wouldn’t last.
Nothing better,
I perceive,
Than hot chocolate
On a cold winter’s eve.
Junco - Photograph
The wind doth blow and howl out there.
I’m snug and warm inside.
If someone says I must go out
I think I’ll go and hide.
The temperature’s been up and down
A roller coaster ride.
Yesterday was so wet
I’m very glad I dried.
Photograph
Honk, Honk. There they go
Running on the water so.
Lift-off, taking to the sky,
Flying so high,
Practicing their V’s.
Honk, Honk, keep up the pace.
Steady, now. This isn’t a race.
Drafting – the wind spreading
Even when changing heading.
Practicing their V’s.
Honk, Honk, another to lead.
Keep up the speed.
Tired one drops back
Fill in the slack.
Practicing their V’s.
How would it be
To run on the sea,
Take to the sky
Flying high,
Practicing our V’s?
A lesson to learn
Sharing concern,
Lighten the load, helping each other,
Friend, stranger, or brother
Practicing our V’s.
Honk, Honk, I’m behind you.
When you tire I will assist you.
Honk, Honk, we are together
Fair or stormy weather
Together let’s practice our V’s.
Photograph
Photograph
The vine grows.
dark green shinny leaves it bears
Reaching upward,
toward the ceiling of the room it shares.
It droops,
then hangs from the weight of the leaves.
Another vine grows
and stretches toward the light it sees.
Years you lie dormant
hidden within the plant somewhere
Waiting,
waiting to see, will anyone care?
Suddenly you appear
As if from nowhere, you send out
A cluster of tiny buds.
You’re starting to bloom, without a doubt!
I can’t contain
the excitement of seeing you grow.
And then another.
I am blessed by the coming show.
Slowly you grow
larger and larger expanding.
Your petals open:
delicate tiny stars,
soft pink velvet,
tinier star center – looking like wax,
Held together in a bouquet
hanging down. Attention demanding!
I can smell
your distinct fragrance as it floats through the room.
I can tell
from a distance you are in full bloom.
After a while
you wither and die and fall to the floor too soon.
Sigh.
You leave behind a stub for the next time to bloom.
The vine grows.
