A ramble through
unchartered woods
to a path overgrown
with brambles and thorns
and crusty moss covered rocks,
To a cabin in the woods
All worn and beat.
Perhaps the refuge of an artist
or a writer or just a hermit
seeking solitude and contemplation
living close to the heartbeat
of the earth.
I thread the tangle
of the briars and weeds
past a rowboat
no longer young,
And follow a path
Through alderberries red
And high blueberry bushes.
I penetrate through reed grasses grown high
My birkenstocks slumping
To the sphagnum
far underneath
my feet.
In the distance
though my vision
is clouded, I hear
the music of the surf
whispering sweet words
of an Immortal Youth
but a moment
in time away.
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Comments: 89
How forlorn that cabin looked.
Someone, though, was very happy here...once.
Thank you for sharing your stroll.
Wilka
Thank you dear friend!
(That New Years Eve romp in the cranberry bogs was exhausting, wasn't it?)
The Photographers Review
I'm featuring this in the Chat & Connections Garden Cafe.
of the briars and weeds
past a rowboat
no longer young,
I love those lines!
Your pictures are excellent! I was awed by the sharp colors of the alderberries against the blueberries. Loved your Birkis :-)
You had my mouth watering for blueberries... I've tried 3 years in a row to grow some and they never survived.
This is a lovely photo essay, Elizabeth!
of the beauty photographed by you
enriched by your quiet poetry too
Featured in The Poet's Weekly Muse!
Are you close to the sea then?
But then we get to those blueberry and alderberry bushes, and I feel like Blueberries for Sal......
The line about the Immortal Youth touched me in my softest spot.
You have the ability to match the words with the view.
Tell me Bob...is that cabin for sale? It's the one thing that's missing in my life.
I would be most comfortable in that cabin as a getaway.
I loved sharing this journey with you. Hope Faith doesn't mind that I came along also!
Marilyn
Perhaps the refuge of an artist
or a writer or just a hermit
seeking solitude and contemplation
living close to the heartbeat
of the earth.
Faith would enjoy company, as do I, Wilma.
Marilyn, I'm glad that if just for a few moments you could spend some time rambling among the thorns and bushes, with me this morn.
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