Daffodils ~ Romance #11
Daffodils yellow and Buttercups mellow, springing up freely on green grassy hills.
How I do love thee and find thee so lovely, huddled together in masses of frills.
Some to take home to my mother so fair, I know she will love them and keep them with care;
the rest left to brighten the hillside with glee, afire in the sun, blooming happy and free.
© March 2012
Pink Tuffet ~ Romance #10
Little Miss Muffet sat down on her tuffet, but not with her curds and whey.
With no spider around and with nary a sound, she quietly ponders this day.
Alone, but not sad, she's just wistful a tad, and dreams while a mist saunters by.
Her color is pink ~ for it helps her to think of pleasantries calm as the sky.
What will this day bring? Just a bird on the wing, or a visit from friends far away?
It might 'not' be dull like the typical lull she fills with her own games to play...
© February 2012
(2 color versions)
Butterfly Kisses ~ Romance #9
Butterfly kisses, a rainbow of wishes; light gentle breezes that waft through my hair.
Billowing clouds tinged with pink, blue and purple; sunsets of wonder, so wistful and fair.
Long lazy days ~ for the summer still lingers; I'm in no hurry to bid my adieus ...
I love moonlit evenings, a stroll in the garden, a boardwalk, a beach, or a cafe's millieu.
© August 2011
A for Apple ~ Romance #8
A is for Apple ... when I learned to read
B is for Boy ... in his brown and blue tweed
C is for Candy ... he offers to me
D is for Daring ... should I ask for three?
E is for Everyone ... milling around
F is for Festival ... at the fairground
G is for Glances ... this boy sends my way
H ~ my Heart skips for the rest of the day!
© November 2010
Blushing Rose ~ Romance #2
In Italy, in Tuscany, I find myself in awe ~
this is the place that Grandma met and married my Grandpa!
The sun, the fields, the vineyards fair, the lakes cerulean blue,
the music of a foreign tongue, and streets with charming views;
the crusty breads, the olive oils, and fresh Gelato cold,
the linens white, the amber lights, and oh, the flow'rs so bold.
The fetching stares of swarthy boys that tend the grapes by day,
are costing me a bashful blush, a momentary sway;
my cousin takes my hand in hers and off we run ahead,
I catch my breath, compose myself, so grateful to be led!
© September 2010