I wasted every single moment
Of a life I should've lived
Hoping to see a place
Better than the arms you held
Reaching towards my figure
As I looked to the hills
For they say the grass is greener
On the other side
Yet I must admit for me
The problem always stayed
I was worried about the grass
I had not discovered yet.

The color of the grass in the color of the sky, those colors  might not last. We may never see them again because the changes will happen and it all begins here.

He's always to try to annoy the neighborhood's cats. I can't even tell if he's a guy or girl. He's just, different

Today I heard
The all too rare sound of silence
When I took my boots and woollen socks
And with them my feet and legs
And the rest,
From the noisy pebbles
Up to the sea-soft grass that lies
Between stone and rock, and beyond that,
A sea,
That lapped today no stronger
Than a lake in summer.

It is not quite yet the time for silence,
As winter is loud, at least
To my ears.

But today there were
Catkins, on the willow
Coltsfoot flowers, which I had not seen
Before, and
I saw a plant I think looks
As if it might be related to chamomile.

I wore my long skirt,
My sisters scarf
And a green hat
I felt as lovely as the trees today,
Well maybe not quite…
But I will say so because
All is silent, but love in this moment,
And if I am not to love myself I am not to love the earth on which I stand.
Am I not the tree?
Am I not the bird?
Am I not the hoverfly?
Am I not the insect that I almost ate,
Upon plucking a gorse flower
So enticingly filled with a scent of coconut and sweet warm sunlight

I looked into the flower and found another being…

Gorse flowers do not taste as they smell
However often you try, thinking that maybe, this once, they will liken primroses, and taste like….

Flowers.

Maybe I am more like the grass.

green hills, rolling green
i like you
with fresh dewy innocence
you speak in hushed voices.
your sides are guilded
with coral white
your tops are crowned with clouds.
green hills, rolling green
i like you for the majesty
you wear your verdant vestment
forever stretched your arms to the blue
forever sheltered by the stars.
green hills, rolling green
tell me, do you like me too?
would that when i harken
to the trumpet call, when there would be
no excuse to tarry
i should lay spattered on thy peaks
first touched by the divine finger
piercing the nimbus mantle.

The smell of grass in the
air was undeniable. I could
hear the lawn mowers
simultaneously roaring
away, disrupting my dog-days
peace. A blue blanket was
overhead, the white fluff
barely disrupting a
blazing ball of
heat. Smiles and laughs
left spirits high
and ears ringing.
Everyone and their mother
was enjoying the day.
I went back inside;
I think I’m allergic
to Summer.

Green buds, fresh mowed grass,
Bees and pollen everywhere;
I can't stop sneezing.

We went through the motions
Until all went motionless

(The otter frollicked turning everything
into a game of joy to being alive)

Touch became accidental at best to our ways
Once we could touch but now nothing more

(The otter nipped at the turtle
flipped about as it played)

Words dripped from our tongues
Heavy like molasses as the intent fades away

(Down the grass the otter slides into the river
Over and over like a little child)

Reason lost to accusations , accusations took it's toll .
Accusations took our time , creating false crime

(I watch as the otter swims on it's way
Dipping , diving to where I can't say)

Now I sit in the darkness with full moon fever
Wondering how could something turn so wrong that once was so right

You can’t smell it anymore,
static cuts out the radio,
it’s the new
aftertaste in water.
&
the smell
of someone’s house
you’re visiting for the first time,

Gawking at old buildings,
hearing syllables differ-
ntly, speaking the same,
different, words heard

A new kind of music and the scent
of childhood

You think you could
stay here, escape

You feel your soul
change, and your heart
beats stronger

There is nothing to fear.

There is nothing ***** here.

How the thunder
and lightening
give you a new
but old kind of fear

but the rain washes everything
the same.