Humid, hot, dark grey
Clouds build on the horizon
Bolt of lightening.
On these 95 plus days at the barn, storms are bound to pop up.

Humid, hot, dark grey
Clouds build on the horizon
Bolt of lightening.
On these 95 plus days at the barn, storms are bound to pop up.

Last weeks zinnias
Dry and wilted in their vase
Still hold their beauty.

Cloudy and slept late
Light in my window is cool
Rose bed is weeded.

Honey bee can’t fly
Big green grasshopper can’t hop
Butterflies dip, spin.

We are dressed in white
For our warm summer dances
Sweet kiss in the hay.

Heat looms on the edge
Of the pasture where cool shade
Offers a respite

Sometimes you need red
A vase for passionate blooms

The garden gone wild!
When did socks get hard
And stairs, and running cross streets
Oh but the joys now!

New green upward growth
Leaves and limbs with a purpose
Perhaps for a nest.
Seems to me Spring is one of the most purposeful seasons!

Are you watching me?
Can you offer me guidance?
I’m lost in the woods.
