bMi2
Grandmother’s Bench

Mossy seat needs repair.
Nature’s youth finds refuge there.
Baby fern between the slats.
Rusted iron bent with sap.
Weathered wood and clover blooms.
Blocks of stone pretend to groom.
Colorful lizards bear no weight.
Faded oak and peeling paint.
Butterflies dance as eyes find rest.
Expansive lawn likes gardens best.
A branch of blooms gives way to leaves.
Men; however, see only weeds.
Just one spray brings all to an end.
Grandma’s love is still my friend.

There was the youngest dream come true. Everything I wanted symbolized in the silent acknowledgement this was real. The ice cube cocktail a kind gesture happily received. He knew. 
Not a usual treat or favored, but the day was hotter than the pavement. We were both grateful to please.

There was the youngest dream come true. Everything I wanted symbolized in the silent acknowledgement this was real. The ice cube cocktail a kind gesture happily received. He knew.
Not a usual treat or favored, but the day was hotter than the pavement. We were both grateful to please.

And then it was Fall

We’re doin’ all these things so we can squeeze things together so we can save time, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t have anymore time, I have less time. But let’s just say we could save up a whole chunk of time and set it aside, you know what we’d do with it? Nothing. Nothing at all. Isn’t that the point, to be able to do nothing at all? We’re not guaranteed that later-on chunk of time, all we have is here and now, and that’s why procrastination feels so right. Procrastination is not the problem, it is the solution. It is the universe’s way of saying, “Stop, slow down. You move too fast…”… Procrastinate now, don’t put it off.
Ellen DeGeneres (via arkitextura)

One thing she and I agree on…

An upbeat speak!

An upbeat speak!

obstacles

i had clothed, since earth uprose,
its wastes in colours not their own,
and oft had my serene repose
been cloven by many a rending groan.

Third Voice [from the air]. Percy Bysshe Shelley

obstacles

i had clothed, since earth uprose,
its wastes in colours not their own,
and oft had my serene repose
been cloven by many a rending groan.

Third Voice [from the air]. Percy Bysshe Shelley

river’s been rough

river’s been rough

I’m so mad right now, I could eat an oyster and not spit out shell!
I should be your friend on Facebook because we’re friends.
[Anonymous]
Don’t Talk. 
Listen…

Don’t Talk.
Listen…