The tiny waterfall whispers
the Lord is my shepherd.
Petunias lift purple trumpets,
blowing sticky-spiced songs.
In the wood chips, crickets
creak and chirp their ebony alleluias
with the sharp white stars.
the Lord is my shepherd.
Petunias lift purple trumpets,
blowing sticky-spiced songs.
In the wood chips, crickets
creak and chirp their ebony alleluias
with the sharp white stars.
These words are so graced, so pure. And so real. (I may have to memorize this one!)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Thomas! Your kind words make me smile :)
Delete"Sticky-spiced songs"; "ebony alleluias" -- I love so much what you do with imagery.
ReplyDeleteThank you! It is so fun to try to find the right words to describe things like these. I was especially pleased with the sound of "ebony alleluias."
Delete