The fields are filled with the delicate dandelions
whilst yellow petals turn to white umbrellas of flight
the sun kisses every drop of dew
which art suspended under each petal
a reflection of your love is pictured within its sphere
The gentle wind blowing over my warm skin
reminding me of your whispers of love
as I walk barefoot now through the sand
each grain a memory of what once was
caressing my inner being with shifting reminders
I come upon the sand dune of early morn
where fowl encircle me in the silence
and I yearn for you in peaceful serenity
that which bathes my soul clothing it
in the tranquility of loves memories
Carolee Dennis-Woosley
April 14, 2013
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Regis
Mark
Gail
Stay well and keep writing
Eddy
Love,
Deborah
So beautiful depictured in the verses of this poem
All that your eyes see and your senses feel
Reminds you of his wonderful love for you
breathtaking again
Di
*Carolee*
which I embraced as I read
so tenderly..
Lady Vivian
Ron
Art suspended under each petal..love's reflective whispers.
Beautifully penned in tender and charming verses.
Lady Mary Ann
budd
It doesn't exist at once. Only the Nature's elements
(air, sun, water, earth) can poor themselves into a dandelion,
following (knowing) the pattern imprinted in the seeds.
So is the music, the pattern's written in the score...becomes
sound of song, or/and instrumental play...by performance.
So is human living, action. We never have the whole thing
at once...can pick up only a little portion of...performance,
like love....the rest becoming, well... memory...that can be
poor together......when with nature.....
Everything is a performance.
Love ya!
Jane