Welcome to A Poetry Garden! Archives page 1 Click on titles, or scroll down... Nature's Beckoning Lavender Moments Nosing Around Tender Walks the Night What Use Am I?

Nature's Beckoning She sends her gentle laugh along the path of new awakenings; with eager thrusts, the seedlings break through furrowed crusts of fertile soil. Her sultry tease invites a breeze to soothe the summer's throbbing heat; she orchestrates the smooth refrain as raindrops soften sun-baked fields. Then spills of autumn's harvest hues will yield to chills of winter's ice. Each season bends to nature's call; she blends them all with skill and grace. by Laryalee Fraser Index

Lavender Moments Lavender moments roll down through the greyness that sometimes hangs heavily over our heads; if we can just catch one and breathe in its essence, our thoughts will go swinging on lavender threads. Lavender moments are clear with a focus that shows us the rush of this journey we're on; we suddenly see the importance of pausing to savor the sunlight before it has gone. Lavender moments are fresh with awareness of all that is precious -- the waking-up smile of a loved one, the warm validations of friendship, the markers we leave at the end of each mile. They're filled with an "ah", like a soft-feathered murmur that layers a hush on our workaday lives. Our burdens feel lighter, our faith becomes stronger -- whenever a lavender moment arrives. by Laryalee Fraser Index

Nosing Around Of all the body parts we own, our nose is pointedly the one that doesn't stay where it belongs. It sniffs prevailing winds and chases rumors; huffs them in and puffs them out (with variations on the theme). Beneath a haughty sheen, it sneaks behind the neighbor's fence where gossip grows, and seeks the place where folks conceal their naughtiness. It pokes away at closet walls until they fall...and all their secrets tumble out. A nose was meant to be attached; to serve its owner with delight and as a means of warning of surprise attacks. It should not be cavorting in the streets, intent on scents of business that are not its own. by Laryalee Fraser Index

Tender Walks the Night Tender walks the night when there is sorrow in the garden, softly sigh the branches on the passageway of tears. The candleglow of heaven lights the path so newly-trodden, resting on the shoulders of the loved ones gathered near. Slowly folds the rosebud, petals closing in the dark; the scent of love will linger, giving strength to bear the burden. Memories will open -- let the flow of healing start. Tender walks the night when there is sorrow in the garden by Laryalee Fraser Index

What Use Am I? A spindly tuft of grass, forlorn beneath majestic pines, gazed upward at the sky. "I'm such a tiny speck in all of God's creation -- tell me please, what use am I?" On fringes of an ocean-rolling wind, a whisper came, "Your value, little blade, is equal to the tallest tree, your place essential in the cosmos I have made. "The outward lines and curvatures which form containers for the flow of life don't show the attributes of worth. Your inner surge reveals the truth; just spread your roots -- and grow." The meaning of this message was absorbed with humbleness by earth's inhabitants -- except for us. We blatantly invent our own degrees of "worth"... what arrogance! by Laryalee Fraser Index

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