All flesh is grass, and all its loveliness is like the flower of the field. The grass withers, the flower fades,but the word of our God stands forever. Isaiah 40: 6, 8Reaching from dried stemsSprays of brown are leftLike little bursts ofFinished fireworks fadingIn the autumn afternoon.Gone the white laceThat dipped and noddedAt passing cars and curtsiedTo... Continue Reading →

Lemons, limes Bananas-not nearly ripeRed stripe

The old shed door speaks mystery Where locks and latches once clampedTightly shut, now the door can swing open,Proclaiming there is nothing to hide:.Stacks of clay flower pots, a shovel, an ax, Three bent buckets, a couple of rakesSleep inside, too old for their labors.A rusty bicycle with a basket but no Hand brakes, leather strap hung on... Continue Reading →