“But I always think that the best way to know God is to love many things.”
~ Vincent van Gogh

Sunday, March 31, 2013

Just Before Sunset


Sun burning gold
bounces and rolls

over the tree-tops
alongside the road.

The car draws ahead
but around the next bend

the dancing blaze 
is keeping pace.

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Loud


It doesn't stop rumbling, the thunder, after starting with a huge 'Boom!' 

'What a beautiful day!' we said earlier, and then, 'How hot!'

I open the doors to let in the cool. A little spittle of rain flies right through the flywire onto my leg. The noise gets hugely louder and the house shakes. (Surely I imagined that?) Now the rain pelts down hard, and I hear the cracks that mean lightning. The cats are curled up, one in each doorway. They like to watch storms.

It gets louder yet. Then there's the hugest crack I've heard in years. We all jump, and the cats swap doors. I switch off the wireless modem and unplug the landline phone. 

More, yet more, again and again. I've still got power. I bet some people haven't.

Then, as suddenly, it's quiet. The rain stops in an instant, except for the sound of heavy drips from roofs and branches. The humidity returns.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Suddenly Summer

We have Summer at last, for one day - one day of clear blue, deep blue sky; enough warmth for me to wear a sarong; the slightest breeze rippling the ferns just a little, behind the flight of a white butterfly. The drone of a mower somewhere is too faint to disturb; it makes a pleasant, bee-like hum. The fern fronds are softest green. I nod off in the noonday heat, which increases. I think of beaches and rivers and backyard pools, of immersing myself in lovely water. But I think lazily - sitting here, peaceful, in my sweet green garden.

  Submitted for dVerse: It's not easy being green and poetic - or is it?.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Small Sunshine


Small sunshine
in between days of rain.
Everything smells stronger —
both rotting things
and growing things.

Sunday, March 3, 2013

Sodden


Bleak, bedraggled,
my garden misses me.
Ceaseless rain 
strands me indoors.


Submitted for dVerse Poetics: Short verse