Photo & Poem Gallery

Summertime, and the living is easy.
Fish are jumping, and the cotton is high.
Oh, your daddy's rich, and your ma is good-looking.

O dandelion, rich and haughty,

King of village flowers! Each day is coronation time,

You have no humble hours.

I like to see you bring a troop

To beat the blue-grass spears,

Peonies are the royalty of the garden. They are outrageously beautiful, totally confident, and steal the show for the short time they are in bloom.

So early it's still almost dark out.
I'm near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.
When I see the boy and his friend
walking up the road

The Props assist the House
Until the House is built
And then the Props withdraw
And adequate, erect,
The House support itself
And cease to recollect
The Augur and the Carpenter –

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,

I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I 
Did, till we loved? Were we not weaned till then? 
But sucked on country pleasures, childishly? 
Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers’ den? 

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride 
Wearing white for Eastertide.