Silent

4/3/2017 “Silence is worse; all truths that are kept silent become poisonous.” – Friedrich Nietzsche Photographer Unknown

via Silent — Eyes + Words

keeping time

“Keeping Time”….
What a wonderful poem, thought, post, story, fable…
I wish I had written this!
Thanks! I got the gentle, loud lesson.

resarf poetry

~

keeping time ( a precautionary tale )

i like to keep a spare afternoonin my pocketnext to them keyswhich i always need& a pleasant eveningaround my neckkept in a locket( only to be openedduring emergencies )...

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The Waterside Bloom…

Thank you Jacquline! I wake up every morning to the view of a wild but protected lake in my backyard. It is an ancient cypress knee swamp sprawling along what is now a golf course. The water sparkles in the morning light. An assortment of birds like herons, Pileated wood peckers and geese enjoy the refuge. This time of year the gators are deep in the mud, but we often see a few otters under our small dock. Budding trees and shrubs promise spring is near…
The beauty of nature fills our lives with peace, joy and a sure sense of of well-being…
Thanks for your great post!

a cooking pot and twisted tales

Walking by the waters calms me,

it humbles me to see the expanse of nature’s’  beauty that abounds before me and

to realise that, I’m one of nature’s beauty and bloom.

©

Jacqueline

Flower bloom, waters

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Sharon Parker Turner

Featured Artist-Sharon Parker Turner-Georgetown SC Native

bitsofmyselfcom. A scribbling penner with mysterious thoughts...

Featured Artist

Sharon Parker Turner is a native of Georgetown SC and lives at Pawleys Island.

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Everest Shells

bitsofmyselfcom. A scribbling penner with mysterious thoughts...

Burning cold in gritty ripples

Everest shells

Tidal pool on winter morning

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photographer-Tanya Ackerman, Pawleys Island, SC

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Sunday Morning

“His Glory Fills the Skies”

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photographer-Herbie McClary

A Coming Change…

Today is still dark outside my window.

A promise of sweeping chill.

My mind and senses groan for the coming of it like the bee to the flower.

Come, Fall in all your glory!

Come with your cleansing wind!

Brush away the stickiness in my head.

The old stuffy clamminess, heat, and stuff of piled up

summer  dog-days weighing me down.

Brush through my hair, my brain and soul.

Let me sprout a pair of wings perhaps, that I could dance on your breeze!

Or set me free upon the air in a huge rising balloon so as to see the entire earth.

Let me sense, touch, taste, breathe, live into the crisp sharp newness of Fall.

Random Art #1