Tap and peck and poke and prod
And sift, and spit and turn the sod -
A shoot! Ah, spark of green amidst the soil
Seething...see!
Such work amidst the boil
Of greying earth.
What!Only her, then...moving like a bee;
Funny...looks a bit like me:
Ha! Radar Love transmitting with those
funny feelingsers....just so!
Bzztmwah!(and O)
Friday, March 27, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
A Word of Space and Time
What brightness, is the sun, if I have no warmth?
All the heat and glow of my life is you,
And, therein, when I feel glimmers in moments too quiet to recall readily, or without some small restraint
Of heart, and mind, to soften loss
I close my eyes to fire's glow, hearth's home, and thee.
What then....the moon? Glow of white shadow eye, hanging there,
Sky metronome, awash with soft cloth of night's watch - there, just beyond my tremulous reach,
Blinking lullaby upon the waves, to order ebb and flow; great Tidal rhythm, bending oar, and bow,
Within this quiet breathing, between we two. What then, love?
Of orb's glow, or fire's heat, does thy sight alight this same, streaked star, blinking, and awake?
How or why, is't, then? Is't to collide amidst the ink of night; incendiary end, and start, to bliss?
Not so; only trails amidst the orbits then, when planets born of sigh and spark
Do hum and thrum and whir about, as dervish dance amidst the dust,
And Passion, finding Passion clings, and grows, to Be, and See, and Live.
Oh, wondrous Word, to order same - and Pattern's Love - anew!
What heat, what solace, this kindred journey long, to find, oh Dearest...You.
All the heat and glow of my life is you,
And, therein, when I feel glimmers in moments too quiet to recall readily, or without some small restraint
Of heart, and mind, to soften loss
I close my eyes to fire's glow, hearth's home, and thee.
What then....the moon? Glow of white shadow eye, hanging there,
Sky metronome, awash with soft cloth of night's watch - there, just beyond my tremulous reach,
Blinking lullaby upon the waves, to order ebb and flow; great Tidal rhythm, bending oar, and bow,
Within this quiet breathing, between we two. What then, love?
Of orb's glow, or fire's heat, does thy sight alight this same, streaked star, blinking, and awake?
How or why, is't, then? Is't to collide amidst the ink of night; incendiary end, and start, to bliss?
Not so; only trails amidst the orbits then, when planets born of sigh and spark
Do hum and thrum and whir about, as dervish dance amidst the dust,
And Passion, finding Passion clings, and grows, to Be, and See, and Live.
Oh, wondrous Word, to order same - and Pattern's Love - anew!
What heat, what solace, this kindred journey long, to find, oh Dearest...You.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
“Forest in Late Summer” ….watercolour…Dawn M. Nevills
$450.00
Old City at Sunset
….acrylic on canvas…..Dawn M. Nevills
$375.00
“Self Portrait – Current Impossibility” ….acrylic on canvas…Dawn M. Nevills
$425.00
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