Dressed in simple cotton robes, six gathered around the point of examination.
They hesitated. All were too afraid to touch such a foreign-looking living thing.
Braver than the others, one touched a branch a thumb. All followed, touching the last two trees.
The full sunlight on a late Summer’s day warms the house.
There is a feeling of change, for the sun is setting earlier, and a cool breeze touches the lounge. Chloe feels the breeze move along her naked skin as she relaxes on a Saturday afternoon with a coffee and a book.
A breath of autumn.
Summer, Springtime, and Autumn; Seasons in one day.
Gooseflesh on my skin
Beside my open window Autumn in Summer
Pen to my paper
Writing words on many trees Nature closing in
Perfume from outside
No flowers blooming in sight A whiff of nature
The final project. Gathering all the dead leaves, watch them on the wind.
To wish for a love
Someone kind to a soft heart I talk to the trees
Wind from the hills moves down,
moving across fields of colour.
Waves of the sea move through
the spring blossoming flowers – moving, swaying, blooming.
A melody plays in the wind,
a song from the many birds.
Whispers of so many scents
dance in a poem on the wind – melody, music, movement.
In the early light,
as the trees move so slowly, we sit still and tight.
From a black and white world, you showed me there are colours.
You opened the door to another world. A world no longer black and white.
Now that you’ve touched me with your colours, I will never see the world the same way again.
Photo – Kristie Bonnewell
The black heart of summer moves in the sun,
the light soul of winter moves in the snow; white hands of lily move in the rain, dark feet of onyx move in the mist.
Black and white,
light and dark; all the same under the sky.
Photo by Ganesh Shankar
Rain falls from the sooty clouds
to kiss the desolation we made.
They saw the rain contemptuously,
then they cried when it fell no more.
The clouds call the rain to fall again,
but only for the love of the land.