buckets

like buckets
we all carry
things inside

but unlike them

we choose
what it is
we carry

frozen

it's essence
like a memory encased in time
a treasure
tried and true

just wondering

why is it
these happy faces
keep showing up
around the subject
of food?


*note. . .if this is the first happy face you've seen on the blog, check out Janurary 15th's post for an explanation. :)

stone wall

the arch seems to beckon
and ask
what's beyond?

come hither
there's a magical world waiting
full of adventure
yea, ENTER

live each day
as in a new found kingdom
of knights, dragons
and fellow pilgrims

josie

she's a welsh terrier
and from the little i've been around her
a sweet sweet soul

why, just look at her face
the serious eyes
soft tiny snout
and that wonderful wiry hair!
how good of God
to share her

a gentle winter reminder

yes
look to spring
but do not lose
what winter offers
she, too
a gift

to sound His name
to hearld what's ahead
to show a glory
hidden

after the snow

they fell by thousands
dancing through the air, here and there
never seeming to collide
coreographed by Someone
their time
so short
so beautiful

would it were
that we could float
free
unencumbered
without a clash
through time and space
content with our part

how lovely it would be

balloon girl

let us fill our lungs
with the fresh air
of gladness

let us see
with the eager eyes
of a child

from the side of the road

it's been written:
"the earth shows forth
His handiwork"

today
i see again

it's true

messenger

and what of beauty?
in a world gone sad
and hollow

remember her

an angel sent
to soothe the heart
that's rent
by pain and sorrow

lines

lines
lovely lines
like people
of unique design

finding rest

i took the photo years ago
but oft
it comes to mind
and today, with words:
"come to Me, you who are
weary"

both image and words
etched
in the recesses of memory
like the lines in her lovely face
without a trace
of pretense

bridge

a way to get from
one side of a ravine
to the other

have you crossed any lately?

offering

come spring
she will be dressed
in wonderful green
and share freely
her refreshing shade

but now
in february's grey
she offers strength
and seems to say
"keep going"

valentine

it is what's IN

the heart

that matters

kaleidoscope 3 (angles)

when i am sharp

and edgy

you still see

good in me

kaleidoscope 2 (texture)

smooth
rough
mottled
variegated
sometimes messy
love

kaleidoscope 1 (piano keys)

you, my friend,

make music

of all colors

shapes

and sizes

*Kaleidocsope: 1) a small tube containing bits of colored glass

reflected by mirrors to form symmetrical patterns as the tube is rotated. 

2) anything that constantly changes. . .

*Note: When we hold up our lives to "the light of the world" we are changed.

glass

our marriage

like this collection of glass

has had different shapes

and colors

different levels

of transparency

different degrees

of fragility

tried, tested

and blessed

by God

*Note: Yesterday my husband and i celebrated thirty years of marriage. As i considered a photo to post for the occasion, this "glass" photo taken at a museum (on the day of our anniversary) came to mind. The next few posts will include images created from this "collection of glass" photo. They will be dedicated to "love" in its various forms. As you view and read them, may a friend, relative, spouse, or perhaps the Good Lord, your maker, come to mind.

P.S. to my husband. . . .Thanks for thirty years of loyal love and faithfulness. You're the best!

february afternoon

through the

heavy layers of grey

the luminescent rays

make way

the magnificent star

gives light

for yet

another day

early riser

such a sweet one

to greet me

this frosty

february morning

baking

i'm trying new recipes
three a week
i wonder how long THAT will last!

today's creation:
peach praline pie

peeled peaches
sweetly succulent
with crumbled pecan pastry

ah, perfection

giving glory

when you leap
and bound
through this fluff of white
you lift up
all that is good

february morning, early

my neighbor's farm

has charm

in every season

but none, perhaps

more magical

than now

crows

they slowly glide

to the tips of trees

congregating with utmost ease

their caws

a cacophony

proof

there is an awesome God

most high

from whence else

would this small one

fly?

simple things

how is it

that old stone

painted wood

and a piece of vine

can render

such tender

loveliness?

on wing

they numbered in thousands

and covered the trees

like a myriad of leaves

then whoosh

their red wings took to the sky

a sight

quite unlike

any other