Watching the April bottlebrush without spectacles

green & light shimmering
dancing in the sunlight
little red fuzzy flames
burn quietly in the breeze
mottled blue patches
of serene springtime sky
blaze beautifully behind
a lively bejeweled scene
medallions of shade and color
twinkle in the afternoon
a mama hummingbird hovers
with wings so fast, silence
is no longer golden — she is
the sounds of the winds
overtake my soul and
carry it far off into the skies

—Terri Guillemets

Poetry

There is a pleasure in the pathless words…
To mingle with the universe, and feel
What I can ne’er express, yet can not all conceal.
—Byron

The words are lovely, dark and deep.  —Frost

I went to the words because I wished to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of language.  —Thoreau

In the words we return to reason and faith.  —Emerson

Come to the words, for here is rest.  —Muir

Literature does not grow wild in the words.  —Burroughs

I put my heart to school in the words.  —Van Dyke

In the words is perpetual youth.  —Emerson

Whose words these are I think I know.  —Frost

We are not out of the words yet.  —Keyes

Terri Guillemets