Moonlight on the wall
Dancing creatures all around
Scared of my shadow

Roses can be White
Yellow or shades of Pink
But the Red are more expensive
Or so florists like to think

The seeds look very similar
Whenever you plant your borders
But once they show their truer form
It's too late to change your order

My treasures are few
Books to read stories to share
And also there's you

No gold to give you
Frankincense I cannot smell
Myrrh afraid to find
I follow the star
Silently make a you turn
Give homage to God
Bearing not a gift
Wrapped in paper and a bow
Only me to give

You chatter away like
an angry squirrel,
I watch you scamper
off and finally resemble
a fading flower.

Not served for desert
And sometimes hard to
swallow
Slice of humble pie

Sun atop my head
Warming me fromhead
to toe
It makes me smile

A photographer takes to
Field. Camera in hand
Ready to capture
The right moment
A poet takes to
Field pen and paper in hand
Ready to capture
The right moment
A click of the camera
A click of the pen
Both will have a story
To tell
One in picture
The other one
In words
The end result
Will be visualized or
Heard
Both viewed from
The  Heart