I have missed the morning ritual,
the gentle coaxing of words
from my sleepy subconscious,
the quest for image and rhyme.
The challenge met, there is a void
where discovery used to dwell,
a sense of loss, a loss of senses
honed to a comfortable habit.
There is no challenge now,
only the joy of knowing
the poem is already written.
I just need to remember it.
Perhaps I won’t be writing them every day anymore, but I guess the morning poem is a habit now.
Hope springs eternal
Spring hopes are eternal too
That’s why we garden.
Though deer nibble shoots,
bugs skeletonize leaves and
aphids slurp plant juice,
late frosts breath icy death,
too much rain, or too little,
drown and parch in turn.
Quack grass strangles roots,
the wind sucks the soil dry,
and slugs vandalize.
Northern gardening
has it’s challenges, it’s true
but hope springs, Spring hopes.
#163
My CD "New Traditions" is available for listening or digital download
My CD "Breathe" is available to listen to or for digital download
Linda Studley is a writer, songwriter, independent recording artist, and sometime graphic artist living in Northern BC, Canada
Linda Studley 