From time to time, it just so happens that a poet crosses our path. He may be long gone but his poetry lives on in our hearts. Such an event occurred recently while I read e. e. cummings. One of his poems ended thus: "...the sweet small clumsy feet of April came
into the ragged meadow of my soul."
I have never heard April so well described. This and that spring are past. Summer is here. Don't miss a moment of it. You don't get it back.
Vernelle, I enjoy your beautiful pictures and your blog. Betty
ReplyDeleteThe poetry of life.
ReplyDeleteYou are so right David, it's everywhere.
ReplyDeleteLove your pictures and comments Keep up the good work
ReplyDeleteMoments are fleeting but they kan last a life time.
ReplyDeleteMany thanks for your kind words. It is such a pleasure and privilege to visit our wilderness areas. I hope each of you gets out to do it.
ReplyDeleteI like it. Thanks!!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful! You've captured a tapestry of colors......reminds me of Granny's many quilts.
ReplyDelete....Dee