I traverse the wild fields
Amid array of thorn and barb
Simple beauties shall reveal
Pick off the burrs
Let the scratches heal
Amid array of thorn and barb
Simple beauties shall reveal
Pick off the burrs
Let the scratches heal
Tag: flowers
Symmetry ~ Pic and a Word Challenge #245
I revel
In asymmetrical symmetry
Seek the imperfectly perfect
For there is no beauty
No moment
No experience worth a memory
Confined to the bounds
Of the expected
Or the predictable
In asymmetrical symmetry
Seek the imperfectly perfect
For there is no beauty
No moment
No experience worth a memory
Confined to the bounds
Of the expected
Or the predictable
A perfect world
Constructed with ruthless precision
Would be far too mundane
To provide the challenge
Which offers existence
Meaning
Alabaster Fields
Ascend to alabaster fields
Where breezes rustle petal clouds
With their hoards of golden nectar
There to rob the gold
And leave the flowers fallow
Where breezes rustle petal clouds
With their hoards of golden nectar
There to rob the gold
And leave the flowers fallow
Come Hither Petals
Come hither, sighed she
This sweetness I shall offer you
Soft petals parted
This sweetness I shall offer you
Soft petals parted
Undiminished Beauty
Unfocused
Discord
Unsettled
Balance
Undiminished
Beauty
Discord
Unsettled
Balance
Undiminished
Beauty
Just my thoughts and my eye
In dappled sun
Breezes ruffle
Pastel petals
Stems buck and sway
Breezes ruffle
Pastel petals
Stems buck and sway
Camera and I lying
In long grass
Ants trundling
Across thighs and calves
Dragonflies
Hover and dart
Seek mosquitoes
And deer flies
Seeing the Flowers
Sometimes
It is the flowers
I fail to see
For the trees
It is the flowers
I fail to see
For the trees
Violets and Peonies
The violets
And peonies
Blooming under
Willow trees
There ruffled by
The summer breeze
And peonies
Blooming under
Willow trees
There ruffled by
The summer breeze
To pick them now
Would be a sin
Though lovely vase
I’d put them in
No matter rooms
They’re brightening
Petals on the Ground
We plucked the petals
And put them down
The reds and yellows
Gently on the ground
As we intoned
An old count-down
And put them down
The reds and yellows
Gently on the ground
As we intoned
An old count-down
The beauty of a flower is
The life it holds
While purpose lives
Not in its petals
On the ground
Arranged so pretty
An artful mound
Pix to Words 