| A mist has flown on wings of thunder And alighted softly over the fields-- The mountains are bathed By a slight-felt shower of cooling rain. They've slept long, curled under a blanket of snow And now is the time for their awakening From a lonely frozen sleep. This is Nature's morning-- The wood drinks deep and sighs its drowsiness away. The mountains groan and stretch, For long have they been resting 'neath The weight of the thunderheads. All was once frosty and sharp: But now the rain is murmuring among the treetops, Where branches clatter and spring leaves are whispering. Last year's flowers lay strewn, dozing Until the wind tenderly shakes them awake. The air is made heavy by the scent of wet earth and water, Of snow made soft by sun on mountain crags. The clouds press on the cliffs Like the hands of God, Protecting His own. By: yet another running mouth Who resides on: [link] |
here ----> [link]
--
My 2010 calendar : [link]
# then...
# ... un rêve sans étoiles est un rêve oublié
--
The dream was always running ahead of me. To catch up, to live for a moment in unison with it, that was the miracle. (Anais Nin)
--
"STREET" is great fun, but it's NOT pics of empty streets, your feet on the pavement, graffiti, traffic lights, ten poses of your girlfriend, or buildings without people. More info --> [link]
--
PHOTOGRAPHY IS NOT JUST A HOBBY...IT'S WHO I AM...
PORTFOLIO: [link]
have a sweet day
--
Your Art Reflects Your Soul...♥
--
Your Art Reflects Your Soul...♥
..:: Thank you so much! ::..
--
My Portfolio
Katie Franke
Traditional Art Gallery Moderator
Previous Page12345...Next Page