by jeanne rene watson
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Not rated by the Author.
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Can it be my heart beats content
With trowel in hand,
Black till beneath my nails?
This pleasure known completely,
To dig the glory of our mother earth,
And mold, by my hand, a ready hollow
Laden with her sustenance.
With reverence understood,
I press a seed deep into her bosom,
And sing praise to her creations manifest.
An afternoon to plow my simple Eden
To beckon the angels daffodil and marigold,
Contemplating the promise of their hue.
This mellowed heart skips a beat when
Peeks the upstart green, one brave sprig
Who rises to the arms of the rolling seasons
and begs a kiss of the returning sun.
Yes, charmed it seems
This smile awash my grateful lips,
As I kneel to ask the earthworm
Show me his full breadth
Lain across my open hands,
So that I may marvel at his beauty
And give thanks for our brotherhood.
jeanne rené 2/05
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|Reviewed by *********** ********** (Reader)
|Just beautiful Jeanne...Crisp, clear images.....ty, Dani|
|Reviewed by jude forese
|nicely written ... i enjoyed reading these wonderful images ...|
|Reviewed by Judy Lloyd (Reader)
|This is wonderful and I plant different things eah year. My daffodils are poking their heads through the ground now.|
|Reviewed by Kate Clifford
|This is a stunning write of images and thoughts. Great write.|