Along the Fence

Polka dots ~

tiny yellow suns

thin weeds grasping

scant drops of water 

from soil arid and dusty

under clouds dry and ashen.

“A weed is but an unloved flower.”

~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Culling the Beat

An orderly lineup of music

rapped onto silvery discs

Top shelf keepers ~

history of my interests in

  classical, swing and jazz, 

    easy listening and blues, 

      pop, country and folk

Mmm.. I do like those rhythms.

whistling with B.B.,

humming with Dean or Bing,

singing along with Willie or Alan.

     Body and soul swing and sway

       Heart and mind lifted away

         Mix and fusion every day

Bottom shelf ~

history yet to be heard

by my grown up self ~ still

  classical, swing and jazz, 

      pop, easy listening and blues, 

         country and folk

Did I really like that? 

Was the soul really my soul?

Putting aside some silver discs,

my ears open to awkward vibrations 

     too high toned

        too jittery and jumpy

           too frilly or flat.

This orderly lineup of music

quiet and resting until morning comes.

“Music…..can name the unnameable and communicate the unknowable.”

~ Leonard Bernstein

Garden Dreams

My 2016 garden in Victoria

I miss my gardens

From my big backyard garden in Texas to my small container gardens in Victoria ~

merely seasonal supplements to sterile bright grocery store produce

but rooted, grounded in rich soil that gets under my fingernails,

swiped across my forehead

in the perspiring heat of summer ~

fresh vegetables that seldom

make it all the way to the table.

I miss my gardens!

“The glory of gardening: hands in the dirt, head in the sun, heart with nature. 

To nurture a garden is to feed not just the body but the soul.” 

~ Alfred Austin