Winter Willow
Icicles dripping with golden ink
The spindly branches of willow
Bow to kiss the frosted grass.
The primrose white, winter sun,
Mindfully unrolls select rays,
To reach through Christmas mists.
Tiny hollow drip-wells engraved,
In the crunchy carpet below
The graceful willow's weighted curves.
Puntured by stark silhouettes,
The watercolour horizon,
Is drowning in tints of dusk.
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beautiful . . . . .
ReplyDeletexxx
M
Hi
ReplyDeletelovely - stunningly beautiful - the image and the words blend magically -
Love to you
Gail
peace....
Your word touching me deeply, so much beauty. Hugs across the pond
ReplyDeleteyou are a writer and a poet. beautiful. Sarah
ReplyDeleteThis is tender and beautiful.
ReplyDeletea haiku for a poet with soul:
ReplyDeletetimeless words, my friend
a tree in winter's whiteness
cold heart touched by sun
me
M...
ReplyDeleteThank you. and, I will respond.
I am still here.
xx
Gail - Thanks x
Paula - Hugs back across the pond.
Thanks for reading.
Sarah - Not really either of those but... thank you. x
Vicki - Thanks for stopping by and leaving a comment. Is AZ anything like Oz?
!
me - I was so touched by the words of that haiku.
Thank you.
It is truely beautiful.
x