dreams surround a homesteading such as this, no amount of work could persuade them to leave. his heart was given so long ago, and the farm has held on ever since.
the birds sang quite rightly the day she pulled in, the tire was giving her fits. when he took his cap off and extended his hand, his eyes caused hers to lift, amused by the pink shade of shy she wore with her smile, he let off on his farmer’s tight grip.
hard became harder as sunsets created do-overs, and laughter filled the crisp winter air. facts remained, but pleasure pursued as two strangers became one another, encouraging life to come tumbling after.
drove this afternoon, so I wouldn’t have to listen to my thoughts the music helped, but I keep thinking on how everything has changed.
no, not just foliage within the trees or in the depths of the ditches, but in all cases. there’s an old homestead I wanted to take pictures of, my destination was set for the day. Go back and visit what makes sense, Aud.
as I stopped to turn in, a wedding was just letting out, I smiled at their choice of location. Country, prairie and simple seems easy. how fun to imagine his stare and all the dresses, the devotion and all the extras.
the children are safe after a weekend with their father, pleasantries were extended, college life in full swing and real life looks good on them even from afar, babies no longer, maybe now momma should breathe.
as night settles in – outside – I gave thanks for the light of the moon, peeking through the leaves still green, as bright as a headlamp, it would seem, and brought with it an element of peace.
my prayers for you the same today as yesterday, and I’ll visit them again with each tomorrow. yes, so much is changing and maybe it’s time, yet I’m fully aware, even with faith in our Lord, I am frightened and full of sorrow.
You can hear the sound of this machine working – you know you can – if you’re as old as me, and grew up in a small Midwestern town, she was an occasional reality. We heard about newfangled ways of serving others, but what we had was good enough. We understood how to fix her, simple trial and error, no fuss or awkward searching – some days a little pat on the bottom, or the sweet whisper of, “come on baby” and she’d spring to life. I smile because she was a dinosaur in the 80s, yet we were proud. Seems there is still plenty of good happening right here, if you’ll allow it.
what is time without a watchful eye, til color fades, we mustn’t gray tones allow hope say it is so, dear one. how is it my hands feel the road and its bumps, while tires roll atop – proof we’ve been here before and what a journey it was. clouds become pillows, for murmurs under the sheets, and the rain in the distance a melody I remember and cherish, please believe. today is full of beauty, I smirk yet again. passionate in the ordinary I shall remain, and glimpses of tomorrows shall nudge me forward, across the plains.
when gathering for granddad’s funeral no one’s vehicle tires turned into the yard similarly. even gravel sounded different as folks drove in and chose a place to park. the earth where his brown Ford pickup had been parked for nearly 70 years – until Uncle drove it away – had grass growing again, but had for nearly fifteen years, I suppose. I wonder if I’m the only one who noticed. I never asked.
Where did my thoughts go Back burner, they’d disclose Who chased me away A silly dream, I’d say How come I’m quiet Learning my place, but I digress What’s the plan To heal and begin again, I guess When will you emerge Today.
peruse, but take care; vulnerable: only the prelude to what is needed when describing her. sensuous verdure, yet saffron is shy’s color in nature. Autumn breezes by she feels him upon her skin and she yearns for more, His protection everything.