Of Verse, Poesy & Odes

Late Autumn High crimson has faded to cadmium & ochre, slashes of burnt umber pirouette and plie a mirrored reflection an im...

Youthful Enthusiasm Virginia Nightingale flashes cardinal red amongst elderberry and beech, flutters about, orange beak tilted over ...

Mabry Mill On its way toward Meadows of Dan a mountain road ribbons its way past blacksmith and gristmill, where laurels still curt...

Seasonal "The leaves fall, the wind blows, and the farm country slowly changes from the summer cottons into its winter wools....

Mid-Heat It's a secret world of silhouettes and caution, of motionless pond lilies, gently swaying blue flag, and cattails s...

Florence, Italy "The Old City Wall" Antiquity is a narrative we often ignore, march along its crumbling walls obli...

Life's Dance Tulips are most glorious come high spring, flaunt not, as true beauty graciously shares gifts of which most are...

Observing my daughters from the 5th floor balcony  Unfolding Renewal often ripples forth like finely woven waves loosening th...

I'll Never Know Did my four nesting cockles tumble gently in beneath new moon's virginal gaze or were they hurled within ...

The Invitation I remember when you braided daisies, wove them gently through your hair, spun, unbridled - remember when your tangl...

The Coquina Castillo She's served six flags, birthed of a Queen's command, fashioned of ancient shellfish, lime, water...

The Vacation From the vantage point of an adirondack chair I breath deeply, toes salted white, chin tilted heavenward, eyes resti...

An Invitation A frosted glance she sends my way, shivers my spine and steels my breath, dares me look with eyes afresh upon he...

Wracking Riding rolling waves over pirate ships, war, graves of loved ones bound for Charleston and destinations unknown - ...

Pink Ribboned Sky, Fluttering upon shoreline, your silvered reflection shows true beauty.  Unaware of admirers, you embrace all, ch...

Respite Nature's fury spent and weary - all await her gentle sigh. Margaret Bednar, January 11, 2014 We had such cold here...

Winter Beach It's refreshing, this January beach whose secrets still wash ashore, offer my girls smoothed stones, wave toss...

Skipping Stones I remember fishing beneath the dam, bass, catfish, pike? … (they're all the same to me) practically hurl...

My niece's artwork Gratitude and Thankfulness Gnarled fingers accept each season, Reach toward the sky Asking no more Than to ...

Mike Worrall,  Artist   Madness From flamed maple and spruce a tenor's voice vibrates a song my fingers create 'til madne...