Photo credit: Pixabay
The garden gate parts,
releasing sweet aroma
of former florae.
She softly steps in,
breathing the beauty that binds
virtuous voices.
The presence of peace
silences the restlessness
grinding at the gate.
Now bejeweled with joy,
renewing friends and florae,
she picks up her pen.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
Response to Poetic Bloomings Prompt #209
Photo by Keith R. Good
The very word is musical, to me.
Her soft iambic pentameter, calm.
Her rise and fall, a wave of soothing sea.
A therapy. A troubled spirit’s balm.
The sonnet seems to whisper, not to shriek.
No heart has she for bias or outrage.
Her soul is surely humble, yielding, meek.
A lady, moving gracefully through age.
When strolling wood, I hear her hollowed call.
While contemplating God, she sometimes sighs.
Perceptible in mid-west farmland’s sprawl.
She’s many means to draw and mesmerize.
Each time she calls, I gladly sit with her.
I stroke each word, and listen for her purr.
© Marie Elena Good, 2017
Photo by Keith R. Good
Hushed splendor
echoes through rich autumn forests,
softly laden
with a palette of Eden’s origin.
Photo by Deanna Marie Metts
aging winter bark
cracks, moans, fades, unfurls
much like this old girl
Photo by Keith R. Good
Chilled cerulean night
Ignites
Flaunts afterglow
Photo by Keith R. Good
It’s best when
It’s not the hard places
That stand out.
Photo by Deanna Marie Metts
Icy winds gather
Treasures by dumpster
Most will miss
Photo by Deanna Marie Metts
Searching for her God,
She captures His signature –
Snowflakes on trashcans
As I absorb the beauty of the earth –
The vast array of color, feel, and taste
My senses quicken as I deem its worth
I pause to grasp this gift with which we’re graced.
What love has our Creator, that He chose
To lavish us with splendor, needlessly?
This symphony of love that He composed
Delights and serenades unceasingly.
Magnificence displayed in all there is.
The palette, infinite – the pleasure, His.
pictured words 