The blue sky has given way

to cold grey arches.

There is little tending to the

grieving dark or falling leaves from

barren trees, detached by laws of seasons

thrust from the past into the present.

Lost to the sun, her destiny is the hard earth.

What remains is a treasure of clay and a

potter’s wheel behind a sleeping spider.

She breathes warm breath on frozen fingers

until once again she is malleable,

bent and shaped into her likeness.

82 thoughts on “in the spring she will bloom again

  1. ‘She breathes warm breath on frozen fingers’ – Immaculate – powering imagery. Loved the whole thing but that line hangs in there as metaphor supreme. ~ George

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  2. You are such an inspiration to me, Holly. Many times I have you on my mind when I write as I attempt to perfect the words I write. This is another winner in my book! The pictures you paint with words … wow!! You are incredible!! 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

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      1. That’s not true, Holly. I really edit again and again as I cut down, resize, delete, change, get my Thesaurus out … all to get a flow and a great read. I’m “known” for my photography and I’ve really been trying to be known for being a writer as well. I am SO touched by what you said to me here. Bless you! 🤗💝

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  3. I love the autumn season. It is a powerful metaphor for me and it ends far too soon. This was a mezmerizing poem until I got to the sleeping spider and my eyes popped open and the visual scene played out. I too hope to own a hardbound copy of your poems someday. I’ll have to buy two copies, one to wear out the pages reading and the other as a keepsake for my daughters and granddaughters.

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    1. I love Autumn too H. It is so sweetly melancholy. I barely know how to reply to so such a beautiful comment. Thank you hardly seems enough. You always seem to brighten the moment with your generosity and kindness. 🌺

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      1. It is I that should thank you. You are a gracious host and I find myself mesmerized with the visions conjured in your lines. I feel compelled to tell you how much I appreciate what you share so freely.

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  4. Warmth pierces your descriptive cold. I wend my way into winter. I will keep creating no matter how cold my fingers get. I know you will too! 🔥We’ll warm up over the flames of creativity, as we always do. ❦❦❦

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  5. Bonjour ou bonsoir mon Ami AMIE HEART
    Je te souhaite plein de bonnes choses
    La beauté du silence
    La gloire de la lumière
    Le mystère de la pénombre
    La force de la flamme
    Le pouvoir de l’eau
    La douceur de l’air
    La force tranquille de la terre
    L’amour qui se trouve
    aux racines des choses
    Je te souhaite de passer une agréable journée
    Riche de joie et de bonheur et du soleil dans le cœur
    Reçois ce petit câlin……et ce bisou ce matin
    Et aussi ce soir
    Bonne journée et bonne soirée douce nuit

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  6. Whoa, Holly! The seasons reflect some people in their true selves. I have met winter cold people while met malleable autumn clay people. I feel like a summer, skipping and sunny person, what about you? Are you like a chameleon? Change and go with the flow. . . a stream, a waterfall, or a trickle depending on the day. . . Hugs, Robin ❤️

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    1. I imagine you as a summer day, perhaps an occasional sun shower. I’m more like a sunny day with possible rain storms or even s hurricane coming through. Big hugs ♥️♥️


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