Poetic Morsels and Whimsy

Two more of these fun little poetry morsels we call small stones:

January mist

Softens the edges;

Unhurries time

January mist

Plays peep-oh

With mountains

And a longer piece of whimsy which comes courtesy of an exercise from my Life Writing class with Chris Waters :

  I 

 I come from the woods,

A creature of dark earth and lofty hidey holes.

I come from the fields,

A woman of hard work and generous bounty.

I come from the moors,

An artist of agorophobic freedom and vast ideas.

I come from the oceans,

A being of sinuous comunity and heartful predation.

I come from the mountains,

A spirit of wild wisdom and true healing.

I come to this pass,

A devoted pilgrim seeking the future. 

Hopefully I've just organised my next exhibition, so soon I'll have more paintings for you.