The wind fluffed his fingers through the silver on her head.
At his icy winter touch she rolled over in bed
And stumbling toward the morning light
She turned away from night.
Raised her face toward the rising bright
And set the morn alight.
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6 comments:
That's quite the statue. Kinda scary eyes.
Love the poem.
Shirley, I shared her again because you mentioned that you liked the heron detail the other day. I share your mixed feelings about her. She is supposed to represent the bounty of the valley, but she creeps me out just a little. lol, and thanks
The pictures . . the poem . .. Marianne . . Perfection.
Thanks, Cathy, my lame poetry in no way approaches the wonderful of yours, but your kind words mean a lot
You are such an amazing wordsmith! WONDERFUL!!!
Linda, thanks
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