Oranged

Gray days are perfect for tea.
Today, I choose one of orange spice,
Its faint citrus scent makes my mind wander
And I find myself dreaming...


I wake up, once again alone,
In a house that is not my home
As the sun warms the 
Crisp December air.
The lack of snow - so near 
Christmas - befuddles me.
Deftly twisting my long golden hair 
Into a bun, I wander outside.
The chill of hardwood floors
Is nothing compared to the damp grass
In the small yard behind the house.
Small flowers neatly edge
The grass, a small pool,
And a pair of flourishing trees
Laden with juicy citrus.
Carving into the tangy, orange flesh, 
I perch languorously at the edge
Of the water to break my fast.


I wake up, 
once again alone,
In a house 
that is not 
my home.

Crocus:)

A small white Crocus
The first fresh flower of spring
God's birthday present

Life

Spinning faster: red,
Blue, green; not a second left
between anxious thoughts

Challah

Softly rising dough
Garlic, wafting through the air;
Simply delicious.

Wrath

Scarlet eyes, flashing fire
Shining gold my hearts desire
Seething brooding ire

Tea

Pomegranate Tea
Nice and toasty, smells good too
Spilled all over me :(

Spring

Fresh frilly green leaves
Hiding under dripping eaves
Winter's chill bereave

Flow

Water flows, o'er rocks
And sand, as birds ride gently
On the glistening waves

For My Nessa

You bounced around in my mind last night- 
The way you used to bounce across
The grass when I met you.
I cried when I found you - 
I was so happy;
I wonder if you will be as happy to find me
If I will still be allowed to visit
As we had planned.
To make that long evergreen filled drive
That dead ends at your house 
Where your children and husband stand
On the lawn with you
Looking like a family from a magazine;
Smiling, happy, perfect.
So now, with my recently drained heart
Full of more joy than it has had
Since I set out on my adventures,
I fall asleep thinking of you - 
And dream of bread.