Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Friday, January 13, 2017


I wandered through the seasons
as if my soul were soaring free,
throughout the hills and valleys
to find myself once more in spring.

Tis spring my favorite season 
where all life begins a new and
white trillium blanket the hills 
under skies of a gentle blue. 

Beneath the towering Sycamore 
where the waters shiver cold
the wind partners with the trees
as a gesture of what's in store.

Storms awaiting tomorrow 
wicked in their own way 
stretch across the mountains 
in clouds both dark and gray. 

The flowers began swaying
their blooms a bit frayed 
as a stark reminder that
this too shall pass away. 

I held onto my pillow 
my blanket I pulled tight
engaged into the moment
the poet in me took flight. 

Though winter is upon us and
spring just a thought away,
the solitude in which I dwell 
holds on to yesterday. 

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