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Posts Tagged ‘Photography’

Canopies of Glory

Branches arch streets and sidewalks,
offer shade from hot sun,
sigh in soft winds saying no relief to roots.
Time for cement to go, loose
dirt to tickle tree toes, share nutrients
and shade, softness, glory, shelter, quiet,
now shifts to autumn to show new glory.

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Trees I Have Met

Swaying beauties, oft dismissed
columns emptily treaded around.
Look up and see their capes, the 
soft shade embracing color shape design
food shelter comfort.
Shouldn’t we take better care of them?

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The aisles are large, the fruit is fresh and on a beautiful sunny autumn day, the mood is glorious.

It’s time to pick some apples.

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Morning Walk in Portland

Trees hover, leaving shadows,
dance of light, reflecting branches.
Coffee cup in hand,
I stumble over awkward sidewalks,
erupted by roots,
enjoying the beauty.



















Photo and poem by MJC

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Peace on Earth

It’s just a thought, but here it is.
Can there be peace on earth?
I think not, but yet again,can there be peace on earth?
This earth?  Our earth?
Whose earth?

Poem and photo by MJC

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Rainbows I Have Seen

(Some people collect stamps.  I collect rainbows.)

Rainbows
celebrate light,
announcing the end of noisy blue rain storms
calming nerves caused by
lightening streaks and thunder beats of crazy drums.

 

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It Hasn’t Been That Long


Ihasn’t been that long, has it?

Five decades, you say?
Is that a long time?
If measured in human life expectancies, then yes, I suppose so.
But if measured in eternities, in an endless universe,
Where infinity is the shortest line
And forever is the first second on the clock,

then not so long, really.

Photo of eclipse reflections and poem by MJC


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We have a guest in our house.  It is Pickles, our grand children’s family dog, who we are dog-sitting while the family is away on vacation.

Pickles
Lucky for us, Pickles is an exceptionally easy dog to take care of.  First, she is elderly and rarely barks; second she eats and sleeps a lot.  Her attention span is good, especially when it comes to watching us open the refrigerator or make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  

She loves to eat home cooked food, and will stare at us for hours if she thinks we smell like a hamburger, or a good piece of cheese.  

If I rub her head affectionately, she incessantly licks my hand to tell me to “keep going.” I have to order her to stop.   If we lean down to pet her, she rolls over and asks for a belly rub.  It actually isn’t very lady-like, but after all, she is a dog.

Lucky for us, Pickles prefers short walks with long breaks while she takes time out to sniff blades of grass and tree trunks.  One really doesn’t have to go very far, or very fast, to make her happy.  

Lucky for us, our eldest granddaughter wrote down the instructions for how to take care of pickles, and the notes aren’t that difficult or too demanding.  

Instructions

Not so lucky for us, we attend to everything on that list, even using good manners and picking up the dog’s droppings and taking them home with us to put into the waste container.  This is not my favorite task, but it is the law.

We do not have to put her to bed or read her a bedtime story.  At exactly 9pm every evening, she voluntarily hops into her indoor “dog house” and curls up and goes to sleep.  
  
When we first arrived, she was nervous and stared at us, wondering what’s next, I suppose. 

Dog Staring at Spouse
After a while, she relaxed and now spends her time sitting on the couch and lounging about, or lying on the rug and rolling around.  She will yip if she thinks we might step on her by mistake, but we never do.  But she yips, anyhow, just in case.

She might best be described as a fully, unkempt ball of white fur, with a mouth and long ears and significant eyes.  

When she curls up beside me, she kind of looks like a smurf.

What has Pickles taught us?  

Here goes:  
  1. Food tastes better when it is not served in a dog dish;
  2. Walking at a very slow pace soothes the nerves and makes one relaxed, unless one is in a rush or actually has somewhere to go;
  3. Loud sirens cause one to howl; and, last but not least,
  4. Sleep is everything.


Pickles the Smurf

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Tanka # 2 River Edge

Sounds delightful nod
Soft flows trickle green moss sinks
Blue yellow sun shade
Shadows follow foot steps hear
Grasses bend and bow, ’til now
Photo and poem by MJC  

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