White Pine boxes painted blue and red
A brand new home for a Carolina Wren
Lodging paid in song , harmony and
wonderful nestlings ..
Adorable , mirthful Wrens , make this
house your own forever ..

As Farm tractors brush the hayfields of Summer
White Holland turkey's and dairy cattle share
enclosed greenery ..
Late morning vegetable harvest , the cackle of
laying hens and Chinese geese , our Postman smiles
and waves with his Noon delivery ...
Hereford cattle on the move , Fig trees feeding
songbirds , bumblebees and hummingbirds working
the afternoon flowers ..
Tubular bells in town , just over the horizon strike the one o'clock hour ...

The breath of the world invites the 'Dance of the Trees'
Magnolias do-si-do with Silver Maples , Red Woodpeckers-
sway as Mayflies and Field Crickets square dance 'neath the Elm's ..
Brown-eyed Susan's perform ballet in the fragrant Georgia breezes
Young Bunnies whirl away the hours , Big Bullfrogs cha-cha
croak and warble , Hummingbirds boogie among the midday flowers
Lady blue skies and vibrant greens , Crows dance 'The Charleston'
beneath the Pin Oak Trees ..

Eastern grays and I are much alike .. We forever forage with a preference for the sunny side of the yard ..
Our world is in constant motion , forever planning for another place and time ..
Entertaining the green meadow by the forest edge , with one eye on the foreboding skyline ..
Tucked away quiet at Dusk and a wee bit leery about the coming Dawn ..

At this stage in my life I'm about as complicated as a piece
of chalk , and looking forward to continued peace of mind ..

Grandmother's ringing the farm bell in the early afternoon ,
calling the family in to gather at the living room ..
It's premature tolling could only mean a birth or death , for Grandfather would never leave the fields for anything less ..

When firing ones mouth be curious downrange ..
I'd advise a field wagon of caution coupled with good old fashioned
"Kentucky windage" to insure those 'steely *****' are addressing
the intended target ..

Port Lake sunshine , a beam of pure serendipity
Ushering Noon hour topwater magic to all fortunate enough
to bear witness ...
River dancers swirl about felled timber , painted turtles
tred the surface endlessly , broom sage waves from
the curious creek fed beginning ...
Leaf boats ride the wind churned waters , a prisoner
to her casual whims ..Talking hardwoods , sash-shaying
hillside Pines , ferns and wild berry shrubs loom large
at the southern periphery , tall tree reflections soothe my weary
eyes , a daytime Moon rides the True blue impassioned sky ..

I am certain that Hill Country Carpenter bees have brewed the antidote for this poets melancholy feelings
'My eyes will drink freely of this potion as needed',
whenever I suffer from a lack of piedmont scenery ..                    
Whirling acrobats , tedious gardeners from Dawn till the close
of day ..
Challenging surprise guest , staring straight into wondering eyes then
off into the aromatic wind , riding the suns ray's with a grin , happily bound for an afternoon of hard labor once again ..
Peeking into my window as if their calling on a friend .

The barren sidewalks of Palmetto ,
yesterdays shoppes in boarded disarray ,
hushed avenues , empty Water Oak parks ..
Creosote treated railroad ties fill Spring air
currents , Friday afternoon capability shattered ..
Windblown , meager paper evidence collects at
curbside , this abandoned village , forever reduced to a four way stop on Sunday nights* ..