Believing Green Will Return...

The brush pile grows 

On the west side

Lilacs are uncovered

Snowballs no longer hide

Paths are opened

Plants are thinned

We're needing rain 

To make green again

The raised bed holds three glads

Beneath the soil

The spring bulbs 

Are doing rehab.

Cone flowers feed the fly-bys

The rocks shade the skinks

Dry stacked rocks odd wood just lie

Space always grows, never shrinks.

Joining Two Shoes In Texas for her creative prompt this Tuesday. Join the fun.

The Letter H And Poetry Jam

No, that's not my crochet Hook in the orange/lemon bowl but it's close.  

Since today is H day at Alphabet Thursday I'm gonna call it Hiram.  Hiram is a handy little fellow.  We use Him to cross cut the skin of citrus fruit which makes them much easier to peel.   

For Poetry Jam Sweep Out The Old Year, I talking about what I want to keep and carry into the next year.

If only I could hold on to

A child's blind belief

Not to lose my imagination

Always willing to believe.

Keeping my dreams breathing

And my imagination alive

Would be the best thing to carry

Into two thousand ninety-five.