poetry

Today In My Garden I love the lastlate afternoons of summerin my gardenwhen the wind is slightly coaxing the final roses off their branchesand the rustling leavesprove to be a protective foilfor rambunctious squirrels playing tagin the trees I walk slowlyin a pink gingham nightgown observing how quickly the limelight hydrangeashave turned this year,so I snip the remaining fluffy

Today In My Garden I love the lastlate afternoons of summerin the gardenwhen the wind is slightly coaxing the final roses off their branchesand the rustling leavesprove to be a protective foilfor rambunctious squirrels playing tagin the trees I walk slowlyin my pink gingham nightgown observing how quickly the limelight hydrangeashave turned this year,so I snip the remaining fluffy

Apple Grove I slept last nightin an apple grovewhere the Mackintosh scented airfilled my resting bodyreclined on a bed of soft grasswith satisfying sweetnesssupporting my peace but before I closed my eyesI was struck by the skyfilled with dazzling starssparking a thought in my mindof an imagined soulyet unidentifiable days laterseemingly randomlywhen I was eatingan

Ode Oh South Carolina beachas far as my lonely heart can reachinto the ocean of daysthat float away in blue. Oh South Carolina coastresurrect me from the ghostI have become in morning lightand hug me near to you throughout the dreadful night. Oh South Carolina tideI will follow as you abideon windy seas so briskly

Love Proclamation However low I fallI will not fall from youHowever high I riseI will not be above youHowever intensely I desireI will not betray youHowever deeply I miss youI will not chase youHowever anguished by fearI will not run away from youHowever completely I love youI will be complete without you Linda Joy Walder

Quarterpoint The backbone of ecstatic joyis excruciating pain,the kind that requires the windto breathe for youso your lungs can functionfilled with synchronized airgently moving your awakening 2 Corinthians 12:9“I” ‘And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee:for my strength is made perfect in weakness’ to take the solo standawed by the connectivityof

December Beach I came to the beach todaystrong and clearon this December daythat brought me hereinviting me to recallthe struggles of my falland how with courage I stoodon steady feet not knowing if I coulduntil I heard the seagull’s raucous crylike a bugle sounding pain’s releasethen took a breath of air and let my soul

Looking Over A Ladybug We are on desert timewhere hours fly gentlylike hummingbirds gliding,amusing ourselveswatching playful cottontailsdarting in and out of bushy brush,sunsets dripping in liquid gold,the tranquil repose of the moon. It is herein Augustwhere we melt our griefin sauna heatlooking over a ladybugto see the future. Linda Joy Walder (dedicated to my cherished

There Comes A Time There comes a timeto recoverto throw down the swords that have cut youto view the wounds as emblemshonoring your resilienceand to take all that you have learned and discoveredto live your best lifeto open your soulto love with every fiber of your powerforgiving the failures of others forgiving yourself too Linda Joy Walder

Reflection The dreams,they wake you upfrom dreary days in bedwhen it is an effort to sip wateror eat a crust of bread. The changes,they unfold in chapters livedbecoming stories you tellbut no longercan rely upon for accuracy. The realizations,they happen graduallythen suddenly fall from the cloudsraining lightly upon your bodyuntil the sun fills you. The