# Poetry



## Koru

i hope you all don't mind, but from time to time there is a photo posted that sets my muse dancing. i'd like to use this thread just to post (copy over) your image and add my poem/s. please let me know via message if this is not acceptable to you. otherwise, i'll simply add thoughts here that your images stir for me.

thank you in advance.

rosesm


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## Koru

richg99 said:


> thread by Rich: Hat shop, washing and chapel
> 
> Washing


*Washing*

They hang washing
out the windows,
dangle it
above the street
to catch the day's sun
between buildings,
between moons.

The plastered heat
drives away damp,
wrings waves of warmth
from the walls,
dries clothes cardboard stiff.

They'll collect the clothes later,
 when the sun reclines
on the sea
and shadows cool the cotton.

_K. Sweet_

(thank you for the inspiration, Rich. rosesm)


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## Pocketfisherman

Now this and a cup of hot coffee is a great way to start a morning. Thank You Koru and Rich !!


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## Koru

richg99 said:


> thread by Rich: More Egypt. Its people and structures
> 
> black headress lady, travelling in a mini-bus.... in downtown Cairo


*Lady of Cairo*

She half smiles
though her eyes don't
and the weathered skin
by her eyes deepens
under the fine dusty air.
Perhaps she is thinking
of her children
living in far away places, or
simply working out
how to get from this moment
to twilight,
when the unrelenting sun
will cast long shadows
across the shifting sands.

_K. Sweet_

(thank you again Rich. rosesm )


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## Koru

Charles Helm said:


> from Charles' Squatters thread. A few things I found hiding out in my tent:
> 
> 
> 
> As usual, click pictures for larger images.


*Camo Frog Squatter*

He's hidden in plain sight,
the frog on the bar
inside the tent,

hiding from the day's heat,
or night's cold breath

and when I write of camo gear
I know you will see him
in his glory, up there

among the wicker rafters
watching, biding his time
perhaps lying in wait

for a fly to settle just so,
within reach.

_K. Sweet_

(thank you Charles for the inspiration rosesm )


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## Charles Helm

Very nice!


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## Koru

thank you. 

and thank you too pocketfisherman.


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## Gator_Nutz

Your muse must be working overtime Karen I'm envious. First I wish I had a muse and second I wish it were kicking me from the inside making me look for things special. You know I like your poetry. I need to read more. Did you read that correctly? I NEED to read more. I did not say I WANT to read more. I NEED to read more    Now pick up your pen or your camera, or preferably both, and get to work. James


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## rendon

Very nice I like what you did......


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## Koru

Gator_Nutz said:


> Your muse must be working overtime Karen I'm envious. First I wish I had a muse and second I wish it were kicking me from the inside making me look for things special. You know I like your poetry. I need to read more. Did you read that correctly? I NEED to read more. I did not say I WANT to read more. I NEED to read more    Now pick up your pen or your camera, or preferably both, and get to work. James


you do have a muse. it shows with each image you share. i don't know if he or she sits on your shoulder or your head or where, but most definitely you have one guiding you, your thoughts, and perhaps very importantly, that shutter button finger. 

more is coming. 

thanks rendon.


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## Koru

RustyBrown said:


> from his A Bouquet four years in the Making thread:


*Plumeria*

Rain plumps the petals
purposely
magnifying the beauty
cradled beneath.

Each drop is a window
where the flower's soul looks out
as we look in, deeply in.

God painted the petals,
used brushes thick with white,
soft yellow,
and blush pink.

The bouquet teases the air,
calls the insects
to feast,
calls the rain to fall,
to cleanse the delectable plates,
calls eyes to rest
upon its delicate petals.

A bouquet,
four years in the making.
There is nothing common
about this frangipani.

_K. Sweet_

(Rusty, thank you for the inspiration through your photo _and_ your words. rosesm )


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## Gator_Nutz

Beautiful image Rusty and beautiful words Karen. Some of both of your best.


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## Koru

thank you James. hope i can do this image justice too.



RustyBrown said:


> from Rusty's More Plumeria thread.


*The Bloom of the Plumeria*

This Summer morning
the sun chose to rise
in your garden.
Rain diamonds sparkled
on her rays
as if they were last night's stars
left behind.
Insects will venture forth
and quench their curiosity
at this unusual awakening.

_K. Sweet_

(Rusty, thank you for the inspiration, again. rosesm )


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## Koru

Arlon said:


> from the 7 minutes with a P&S thread
> 
> Sunflower:
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> larger: http://fototime.com/7F396B5FA70BF41/orig.jpg


*On Summer's Solstice*

The sunflower catches a single ray,
lifts its face to bathe,
to rest between a window of breaths.
A delight to find,
she is hidden,
veiled by garden, green walls
and a muting of soft afternoon shadows.

_K. Sweet_

(Thank you Arlon for the inspiration, rosesm )


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## mastercylinder60

i wish i could get my muse to do that.


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## Guest

mastercylinder said:


> i wish i could get my muse to do that.


 Work at it enough and your muse may.

Your first scribblings may be no better than your first snapshots, but just as you can learn photography, you can learn poetry. Everyone has different talents in differing degrees, but everyone also has room to improve in *all* areas of creativity. No one has ever "Maxed Out".

Just as physical exercises builds muscles, improves endurance, and develops skills, so does creative exercise/practice develop talent. ~ Finally, if you don't try you can't succeed!

PAX, -JAW-


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## Koru

mastercylinder said:



> i wish i could get my muse to do that.


what -JAW- said. work at it, learn the skills needed and then don't drive your muse, let your muse drive you. rosesm i often think there is a good measure of zen tossed in with my muse too.

some people can describe their muse in great detail. i recall reading Stephen King describing his muse giving me such a distinct and vivid image of a man. i am stumped to describe mine as it weaves in and out of tangibility, most often i think of it as a white whisp, full of feelings --- it saves me from trying to drive it. 

by the way, thank you rosesm


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## Koru

Gator_Nutz said:


> from: My Sunday Outing thread


*purple reins*

hovering in the black
yellow suns
bursting light
scatters
over perfect petals
​_ K. Sweet

_(thank you for the inspiration James rosesm)
​


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## Koru

sometimes when i write, i write as if i am the lyrical subject, or as if i am seeing the subject of an image with my own eyes. sometimes i feel more than it can be reasonably expected for me to feel, especially considering i've never met the subject in an image in person. i wrote this poem this morning. it's had one edit - no time to sit and settle. it's an odd piece of writing, from unusual thoughts that are some of mine and some of what i've read from Shooter's posting. Shooter, your words and your photos turn Iraq into a multi-dimensional place. thank you for that and thank you for your inspiration. rosesm i fervently hope you don't mind me posting my poem along with your original post. thank you also for taking the time to enrich Abdulah's life simply by listening and talking with him. i don't think it is just young boys like Abdulah who will help turn Iraq around, i think it is men like you who have a big impact too.

anyway, enough waffling from me.



Shooter said:


> from My Little Buddy thread.
> 
> I arrived on the job site yesterday and saw roughly 5 children dress as laborers make a run for it when my convoy pulled up. They were trying to hide from me. The military allows no one under the age a 18 to work on a military job site. I found this little guy and had my translator ask why he ran. He said because the others ran. I asked him if he was scared of me? He stepped right up and stuck his little hand out like a man and said no sir. I asked what he thought of the job, and he said it was his first time working an American job and I was the first American he had every spoken too. I spent about 30 minutes mostly answering his questions about me and Americans in general. If Iraq is to ever turn around and be anything at all, it will be young men like Abdulah that will be able to do it. You could just feel the pride as he spoke.
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Shooter


*Children Forget Quickly*

He grins. His eyes sparkle
above big blue overalls
and below a blue hard hat
that fits perfectly.

_They make hard hats for children?_

He doesn't know me
and I want to know him.
I hold back, for a moment
unsure if it's a trick,
if he's deliberately smiling
to sidetrack my training.

He stretches a hand
for a man's shake
and in the warmth of skin
I know him to be genuine.

We talk, well, I talk,
answering his questions
as if he were four, why
are you here, why
are you building this, why
do you carry a gun?_

Why?_

His chin is high,
and he carries the pride
of his land of sands
on his shoulders.

He is the future.

_K. Sweet_


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## Koru

a special one this morning from my own garden - photo and words by yours truly. i hope you like it. 










rosesm


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## Gator_Nutz

Brava! Bravo! Bravisimo! Or as we say in Houston, Hot Dang! I really like this very much. I would like to also see just the image itself without the words. Would that be out of line? It is very nice. Man I wish it were Autumn here right now. Wait, I forgot, we don't have an Autumn in Houston. Keep posting so I can remember what seasons are supposed to look like.


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## richg99

NOW... you are talking... fine pix, better poem..together... your best work. Rich


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## Koru

thank you both rosesm rosesm i'm glad you like it. i enjoyed creating and combining the image. 

(James, i've posted the leaves for you in another thread)


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## Koru

sometimes inspiration through photos causes my mind to see more than is actually there... some people might call that Poetic Licence. i still call the end result, Poetry.



madf1man said:


> from the thread: This mornings bike ride


*Between the Spokes*

Birds peck the earth
searching for that succulent morsel
that seems just beyond reach.

Tree leaves swing
and I watch the minuet
of wind and sun
play the day, tease

my vision away
from the bridge
that crosses above,

one end firm in today, now,
and the other embedded
in the future,
the walkway between, thick
with morning dew.

_K. Sweet_

(thank you for the inspiration madf1man rosesm )


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## Koru

Arlon said:


> from the thread 'Tuesdays moon'
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> larger:
> http://fototime.com/45B771E79738DDC/orig.jpg


*Tuesday's Moon*

There is no man
sitting on the moon tonight
eating supper like mother said.

Just craters
and dried crevices
competing for the sun's blessing,

bumps and holes
bound in a ball
that gravity gravely guides.

There is no man
on the moon tonight.

_K. Sweet_

(Thanks for the inspiration of your words and photo, Arlon rosesm )


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## baylvr

Ohhhhh the talent! Beautiful voice of the pictures!

Rock on Muse!


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## baylvr

Koru said:


> *Tuesday's Moon*
> 
> There is no man
> sitting on the moon tonight
> eating supper like mother said.
> 
> Just craters
> and dried crevices
> competing for the sun's blessing,
> 
> bumps and holes
> bound in a ball
> that gravity gravely guides.
> 
> There is no man
> on the moon tonight.
> 
> _K. Sweet_
> 
> (Thanks for the inspiration of your words and photo, Arlon rosesm )


***sigh*** Wow! Absolutely beautiful...


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## Arlon

Thanks Karen, I feel like the picture is complete now..


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## madf1man

Karen, thanks for the words to go with my picture. I am honoured it inspired you. Trey


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## Koru

you're both welcome. i'm glad you like the poems. it's hard work to try and make sure that my words come up to the standard of your photography. hard work and very rewarding.

rosesm


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## Koru

Gator_Nutz said:


> from the thread Fun with Spiders


*Spider's Graveyard*

You spun silver
and the sun gilts gold
on strands broken
that once held tomorrow.

You're hiding now,
backed into your barren place
between web and bough,
waiting for the tell-tale tremor,
poised to tiptoe
on the silky tightrope
to dinner, a la carte,

an unknown menu
for tonight.

_K. Sweet_

_(thank you for the inspiration, James. rosesm )_


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## Gator_Nutz

Another very nice interpretation Karen. Your words add a whole new level to what might be considered just a humdrum photo. (to other people...not us) Thank you for spiffing mine up


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## Dolphin

Koru said:


> sometimes when i write, i write as if i am the lyrical subject, or as if i am seeing the subject of an image with my own eyes. sometimes i feel more than it can be reasonably expected for me to feel, especially considering i've never met the subject in an image in person. i wrote this poem this morning. it's had one edit - no time to sit and settle. it's an odd piece of writing, from unusual thoughts that are some of mine and some of what i've read from Shooter's posting. Shooter, your words and your photos turn Iraq into a multi-dimensional place. thank you for that and thank you for your inspiration. rosesm i fervently hope you don't mind me posting my poem along with your original post. thank you also for taking the time to enrich Abdulah's life simply by listening and talking with him. i don't think it is just young boys like Abdulah who will help turn Iraq around, i think it is men like you who have a big impact too.
> 
> anyway, enough waffling from me.
> 
> *Children Forget Quickly*
> 
> He grins. His eyes sparkle
> above big blue overalls
> and below a blue hard hat
> that fits perfectly.
> 
> _They make hard hats for children?_
> 
> He doesn't know me
> and I want to know him.
> I hold back, for a moment
> unsure if it's a trick,
> if he's deliberately smiling
> to sidetrack my training.
> 
> He stretches a hand
> for a man's shake
> and in the warmth of skin
> I know him to be genuine.
> 
> We talk, well, I talk,
> answering his questions
> as if he were four, why
> are you here, why
> are you building this, why
> do you carry a gun?_
> 
> Why?_
> 
> His chin is high,
> and he carries the pride
> of his land of sands
> on his shoulders.
> 
> He is the future.
> 
> _K. Sweet_


For me, this is the one that touches my soul. Karen, you are half a world away, but this is America's Independence day and this is what Texas and America is all about. (not taking away from NZ (I think that is where you are at)) I used to be able write this way, however, I guess life has cluttered my mind. That is one of the reasons I have gone back to photography!


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## Koru

Dolphin said:


> For me, this is the one that touches my soul. Karen, you are half a world away, but this is America's Independence day and this is what Texas and America is all about. (not taking away from NZ (I think that is where you are at)) I used to be able write this way, however, I guess life has cluttered my mind. That is one of the reasons I have gone back to photography!


thank you, i am glad that i managed to reach out and touch people with this one. it's as important to me as it is to you. one day, when you are ready, i hope you pick up your pen again.



Gator_Nutz said:


> Another very nice interpretation Karen. Your words add a whole new level to what might be considered just a humdrum photo. (to other people...not us) Thank you for spiffing mine up


you're always welcome, my friend.

rosesm


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## Koru

_(illustration and poem by K. Sweet)_


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## Koru

_*The Daffodil*

Once more is the beauty
of the daffodil.

A bloom among mid-winter grey,
A light to dispel the dreary rains,
To star.

A sun to dazzle the corners,
Wipe the shadows
From under half-closed lids.

I see a sun peering at me -
A blossom 'neath a bare-limbed tree.

K. Sweet

.

_​


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## Koru

Gator_Nutz said:


> _from the A few moments from my Saturday thread
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> _


_ *Sometimes...*

Sometimes it is a place
that sets off a spiral of emotions.
A beautiful beach
where soft summer waves
lap the shore,
a snow stippled mountain
with rocky steps to the sky,
a graveyard where a bronze angel cries
for a child whose smiles lit each day,
whose play delighted his parents,
whose words were the voice
of dawn's chorus.

K. Sweet
_

_(Thank you James for the beautiful inspiration. rosesm _)


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## Koru

One of my photos from the thread 'Insomnia':










*Red on Black*

You are lit from beneath,
as if the sun has begun lifting itself
from the unblinking blackened sea,
so your petals hover
in the dark still night.

Your body poised for flight, levitated
at the beginning
red on black,
a frozen ink embossed stamp
in the sky.

We wait for your first breath
the outstretching of pink
placed beyond reach
almost beyond sight, and yet

your scent lingers
longer than false perfumes,
lingers like blue
remnants rocking
the horizon edge.

_
by K. Sweet

_


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## Guest

That's nice, but I cannot give you green to go with your "red on black". Apparently I am stingy and need to spread my approval around. ;(



:rybka:


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## Koru

i've never thought of you as stingy -JAW-. thanks for your thoughts.


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## Koru

> from madf1man's thread This mornings bike ride


*It is temporary*

It is temporary
this fall of leaf,
this golden carpet
my feet scuffle,
this odd blue sky
with yellowed sun tentacles
that stretch and twist
into early winter corners.
It is temporary
and I prefer to linger in it,
to ignore the circling clouds.

K. Sweet

_(Thank you madf1man for the inspiration. rosesm )_


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## madf1man

I am again proud to see your words with my picture. Thank you. Trey


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## Gator_Nutz

Beautiful image and a beautiful poem to go with it. Kudos to you both.


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## Koru

> from Hooked Up's thread More learning Curve questions:


*To my new Mistress*

In my eyes you will know the veil
that hides my trembling.
I will not speak of my loss
though you may see it
in the way my tail slows,
you may feel it when my tongue
wakes you during the night,
you may hear it
in my bark as you leave for work.
You will know too,
my delight in loving you.

K. Sweet

_thanks Guy, for the inspiration. rosesm _


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## Koru

this little 2cool chap somehow found his way into my heart. rosesm










*Reggie*

In our hearts, you will stay -
in our memories, forever.

We will remember
how you fished for cats,
how you would sit
with ears perked guarding the pier,

and the truck,
and your master and mistress,
guarding them all
from behind cool sunglasses

where your kind eyes
missed nothing.

We will miss you for a long time
and remember you, forever.

In our hearts, you will stay.

rosesm

_K. Sweet_


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## Guest

*Reggie*

*Reggie*

Spotted clown,
Sharp eyed fish thief,
mischief maker,
laughing at me!

Cool dog,
most teasy beast
with sunglasses
and a blue scarf.

Can a dog smile,
or only in my heart?
Rest well my friend!
Goodbye for now.

Sit! Stay!
Good dog!

Wait for me.


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## Koru

*i made time...*










illustration _and_ words by K. Sweet


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## Mojo281

Wow, your words have a way of painting another dimension into the pictures that you so elequently write about. I wait for the day that you do so to one of mine.

Thanks for sharing!!! The one about reggie almost brought tears to my eyes and I never met the little guy.


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## Guest

_*Fisher's Moon*_








The photo was taken by a fellow 2Cooler who gave me permission to put words on it. ~ Unfortunately since then my computer crashed and I lost my notes. So I can't give credit where credit is due.  If this is your photograph, please speak up so I can acknowledge you.


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## Koru

beautiful! keep sharing your poetry -JAW-, i enjoy it.

rosesm


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## Guest

*Where Do Butterflies Go*

Both photo and words are mine. I wrote it with Chelsey Campbell's dad in mind, after she was lost to all of us.










:rybka:


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## Koru

_(photographer, Shooter. poem, K. Sweet.

Thank you Shooter for your inspiration. Thank you too for all that you are doing in your work. I appreciate you. rosesm ) _


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## Guest

The image is a government stock photo. The words are mine, and they were arranged under my direction by a Portuguese architect friend.


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## Guest

All mine:










:rybka:


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## Guest

stock photo; my words:

*CANADA GOOSE*









(Branta _canadensis_)

Grey Leader
Talking to the moon
As the rest of the noisy
Vee
Follows the reduced turbulence
South
Across the smoke-burnt
October night

Follow the wings
Gander and Goose
To a warm and safer
Roost

My heart shall lead your way.​


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## Koru

beautiful -JAW- i love your poetry. i wonder if they're the same canadian geese i saw last week. 

i must poem some more.

rosesm


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## Koru

_from Gator_Nutz 'White Whale' thread:_









*The Old Oak*

She nests, like a mother hen,
above graves and nurtures growth
within her trunk
and atop outstretched limbs.

She brings dappled light down,
to warm the earth
that nourishes her roots,
to enrich her gravestone charges.

New growth upon her branches
seems a renewal, a rebirthing bathed
in sun blessings. An aged devotion
without end.

_by Karen Sweet_

(thank you James for the inspiration. :rose: )


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## Gator_Nutz

Thank you Karen for once again letting us share in your creative process. I have had a lot of people giving me all sorts of ideas and advice (other places) on how to make this tree look gloomy, scary, or spooky when that's not really what I am looking for. Maybe it's because Halloween is coming, I don't know. Your poem better translates the way the tree appears to me. It is taking care of those left under its care. It's that never ending circle of life. I have a new lens arriving tomorrow so Friday I will be back out trying some different things with this beauty. Thanks again for honoring my simple image with your beautiful words.


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## Koru

from Dorado-Mahi's San Marcos River thread:










*Summer Days*

We know we all played there,
in the high brown grass
roly poly and hide and seek
and sometimes we lay on our backs
watching gators swim the sky,
dreamed of icy Arctic winds
and polar bear paws padding above
as if there were glass between us
and that which lays beyond.
_
by Karen Sweet_

(_thank you too Ray for the inspiration rosesm _)


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## Koru

Gator_Nutz said:


> Thank you Karen for once again letting us share in your creative process. I have had a lot of people giving me all sorts of ideas and advice (other places) on how to make this tree look gloomy, scary, or spooky when that's not really what I am looking for. Maybe it's because Halloween is coming, I don't know. Your poem better translates the way the tree appears to me. It is taking care of those left under its care. It's that never ending circle of life. I have a new lens arriving tomorrow so Friday I will be back out trying some different things with this beauty. Thanks again for honoring my simple image with your beautiful words.


it took me a second look to see the 'life'. when we think of cemetaries we instantly think of death and all the cliche things that death brings, darkness, grave stones. we add in to our thoughts spooky movie scenes and wieldy overgrown trees and areas within cemetaries.

my initial poem was based on those cliche things. i didn't post it because it was wrong. it did not match up with your photo. your photo was saying different things and i thought about asking you to alter your image and realised how silly that was. and it was then that i was able to see past those cliche things toward the 'Life' within this cemetary, within these images you created.

so you see, i owe you thanks for giving me something very different to 'see' to help me move beyond the basic.

i think it's very important to keep light in these images to help show the 'life'. i don't know if that will mean purposely going at midday or if you can do it another way with your equipment. i think the sunlight hitting the new green growth would be of benefit. and yes try to eliminate dark unclear parts of the tree or gravestones.

when i was looking closely at the tree, i noticed the very dark streak running down the trunk - i hope that is not a future split. are they doing anything to stop that from happening, apart from the wires holding up the limbs?

i really feel now as if i could sit under that tree, just as you have, and enjoy its comfort. i think i must be overdue for some tree hugging. 

i can't wait to see more captures of this beautiful old oak.
rosesm


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## Koru




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## Koru

from BPitcher's thread: The Tragic Cross Processing of Walter Underspan



BPitcher said:


> 14


*Of Skeletons*

The skeleton of an umbrella
is left on the dirt laden floor,
alone and unloved. Forgotten
are the Spring rains, held back
by a rainbow of colours
and firm hands, forgotten
is the scent of a sun shower,
the sound of rain landing
on the bright membrane above.
Now tears are not heard,
they do not fall for the lost,
the forgotten, nor the lonely.
The umbrella bones 
lay exposed.

by K. Sweet

_(thank you for the inspiration rosesm )_


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## Koru

from BPitcher's thread Jailbreak



BPitcher said:


> 1


 *Regress*

Behind the bars
lays a garden filled with butterflies,
with flowers scenting the stale air.

Paint peels unnoticed.

Between the pink and sunbright panes
you call back yesterday, claw

back lollipop memories,
daisy chains, dancing on the grass
for Daddy's box camera.

Tomorrow brings a numb blackness.

Today, behind the barred garden,
is joy.

by Karen Sweet

(thank you for the inspiration. rosesm )


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## Charles Helm

I think you and Mr. Pitcher make a good team.


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## Koru

Charles Helm said:


> I think you and Mr. Pitcher make a good team.


thank you. his photography speaks to me.

rosesm


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## Koru

*Weeping Cherry*

within one dewdrop
is the sun

within one petal
is life

_K. Sweet_
​


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## Slip

I really like your poem and photo of the Cherry blossom. Did great job on poem and geat job on your photo with it framed also. Classy.


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## Koru

the image is from the thread by let's go, PINS trip:
(i used photoshop for a little post processing, vignette cutting, with 50% feathering, and around 50% opacity for the image).










_Original photo by let's go, the words by K. Sweet_

(Thank you for the inspiration, let's go. rosesm )


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## Guest

*Homemade Memory Soup*_ 
These are the memories and words of a dear friend. I have only edited them. They belong to the Texas Mermaid and are used by her permission. And Tom Wolfe wrote "You can't go home again". - Rybka_

-*-

Stirring the memory like a pot of soup on the stove
I drove
Through the deserted streets of my childhood.
Bubbling up unbidden
Like steam rising
They came trooping out.

Playmates, classmates, neighborhood kids,
In their tattered play clothes,
Barefoot
Hopping up and down trying to avoid the hot sand
Of a West Texas summer.

Sidewalks ablaze with heat.
"Hot enough to fry an egg," Dad said,
Just home from the oil fields
Mopping his brow
While sweat ran down from his head.

Mom sticking her head out to yell,
"Supper's ready! Come home! Come home!"
Turning away,
Wanting to play
Ignoring the summons.

Never dreaming the day would come
When I would long to be called
In
to dinner
With daddy, mother,
Sister,
And brother.
Too late now.
Gone.

Playmates, too.
Gone to early graves
Or
Turned to old men and old women
With gray hair and aches and pains
Creaking joints.
Sighs and groans.

But for a moment,
Just for a moment
As I sift through the boneyard of summers past,
I stir memories
In the ghost town of my heart,
And I see that girl of ten
Again
Sitting in a tree.

Playing Cowboys and Indians,
Or Tarzan and Jane.
And I smile
In the secret corners of my mind
The images twirl and swirl
Round and round.

And they are all there again
The family and friends
My childhood
Gone,
But never lost,
Always in my mind and heart
While I wait my turn
to be called. . .

home.​
rosesm


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## activescrape

Very nice.


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## Koru

activescrape said:


> Very nice.


i second that! lovely -JAW-. thanks so much for sharing!

rosesm


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## Koru

for my friend and mentor -JAW-, rest in peace dear man. rosesm


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## Koru

:rose:


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## Koru

RustyBrown said:


> from Rusty's Thread Gray Jay 15/10/07


*Gray Jay*

Gray Jay teasing
occupies your lens
steals your picnic
busies your pens.

Gray Jay hunger
brown eyes alert
God's own creature
pretty and pert.

Gray Jay delight
feathers all preened
mind rushed ahead
breakfast is gleaned.

Gray Jay resting
branch sitting now
watching people
lower than thou.

©K. Sweet

_(Thank you for the inspiration, Rusty. rosesm )_


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## Koru




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## Koru

rosesm


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## Koru

i know i've been remiss when i have to use the search function to find the poetry thread. hmm

so...

Mont recently posted some beautiful bluebonnet photos, plus i have been given a beautiful bluebonnet pen by Tortuga and i put the two together...










rosesm


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## Koru

.








.








.








.


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## Koru

*trying something out...*










Briefly touched, fingertips
roll together, braille a face,
a facade that holds the whisper
of joy, an acceptance as straight
as Eve eating a red apple, a knowing
that this temporary touch timed
for the spark between here
and gone will weld our souls
so we never forget this
chance, this choice.

©K. Sweet


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## Koru

.









I watch the sun creep over the hills
spread its fingers across the valley -
dropped spores bleeding and belching light,
puddling and pushing the edge of night
back beyond sight. Gold spills, pooling
at the roots of ancient pines, needles
stacked on the ground, a blanket
staked out ready
to nurture dreams. A pause
in the morning.

©K. Sweet


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## Ibeafireman

Koru
Feel free to use any picture I post if it sets your muse to dancing.


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## Koru

Ibeafireman said:


> Koru
> Feel free to use any picture I post if it sets your muse to dancing.


thank you 

rosesm


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## Koru

.








*Splints*

The trees are pilings
holding the grey at their tips,

one crumble and the fog
would thicken around our necks

choke us so we don't notice
the sun forgot to rise.

There is silver up there
where we look, expecting

higher thoughts than ours
to splint us through

these low months,
these half days.

©K. Sweet

rosesm


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## Koru

.









* There is joy*

although today the sun has not risen.

There is no horizon.

Silver seems to edge the roof.

During the night tears
have landed, kept their shape
on each leaf, each blade of grass
as if the ground weeps too.

The trees no longer wave
their barren arms.

The only joy outside
is hearing. Birds
break the silence, remind
us there is other life
in this closed in world.

©K. Sweet

rosesm


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## Texas T

The last is the best.


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## Gator_Nutz

Your poetry makes me smile and feel good again even in the face of a horrible nightmare of a job that I must endure day after day. Thanks for posting these because they always seem to come at just the right time.
James


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## Koru

thank you Texas T and James.  here's one without an image, written earlier this morning (like the others) and given a title just now.

*If the birds can be positive*...

There is not much room
between the low cloud
and the tree tops
but the birds still find space
to fly, to visit, to chatter.

I often wonder why they meet
what they discuss, how
they plan. Do they think
about their day? Or toss across
the thoughts of a sleepless night?

They always sound cheerful
even when the fog 
no longer has the strength
to stay up.

© K. Sweet

rosesm


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## Donnie Hayden

Nice Karen.


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## seawings

Karen,

I was AOL (away without leave) during most of this thread...wonderful one that it is and sorry I missed it. So...congratulations on a great thread. Here is one of my favorite pictures of Lady Wings and our dock buddy Yoyo...anything there?

LW and Yoyo can sit for hours waiting for a bite, Yoyo will stand patiently by her side, staring out onto the water as if looking for a fish for her. She is an older bird (kinda like the other bird...I didn't say that) and almost seem to like our company.

Two kindred souls
Staring into the rippled waters
Musing on the catch

For one the catch is life
For the other its the chase
Both intent on the outcome

Breezes blow wavelets on the water
Reflecting the ageless cycle of life
Friends enjoying the time together

As dusk draws near
Friends, feathered or others
Are valued like the golden sunset.

Well that's a little maudlin...not meant to be, meant to be sweet, just came out that way.


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## Koru

it's beautiful seawings. if you haven't already, you should frame the photo with the words and gift it to your Lady (not the old bird part though  )

rosesm


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## Koru

*today is New Zealand National Poetry Day...*

and so i have a poem for friends... you'll have to imagine the illustration - just remember the best *hug* you ever had.

*Distant Friends*

A long way from home
they may be, but if we reached
out we could touch them, 
curl our fingers around their hearts
and hold tight so they know
they are loved. We pray
they don't forget,
that they carry us with them
along each road, around
each boulder, that they realise
our thoughts and prayers
are with them, giving them support
and quiet strong love.

© K. Sweet

rosesm


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## Koru

(from the Ugly Challenge thread, photo taken by Fisher Lou)









.

*The dying sun/flower*

Dawn forgot
to breathe life into the sun
forgot to raise it up
for its daily sky race.

It sags heavily, the sun, bent
over so far its rays still drag
across the ground,
long lanky streaks of dying yellow

dangling down sorrowfully
as if it might blot up
evaporated puddle-rain
and somehow survive the rest
of summer.

©K. Sweet

(thank you for the inspiration Fisher Lou. rosesm)


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## Fisher Lou

Koru, literary art in its greatest prescription. Thanks for the meaning.

Louis


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## Koru

inspiration...










* An Embrace*

i
Words, images that flip through
like a cartoon replayed in the '70s,
reminders of why it wasn't good
to go to war, and
why it was. A stage of mind
playing songs and the scream of sirens
clearing sidewalks, the hiss of rain
silencing boots in swamps.
Words and images that needed burying,
memories picked up and shaken
until all the loose bones fall
to the ground, exposed
for a son temporarily blinded
by his own China Beach.

ii
All knowledge passes
through fingertips and palms
to the father, to the son -
the good and the bad.
Curved fingers tell of love
given and received. One
has grown, is enlightened,
the other begins a journey
with an embrace to remember
late at night.

iii
Mother started a scrapbook
entered images, goodbye
embraces. One day
your children's children will hold
the book, flip through its pages
and wonder at the strangers within,
the slightly familiar faces
that are a strong facade
for the leaking souls beneath.

iv
More words are withheld than spoken.
The air carries them, a soft embrace
that couples with ours, remembers
the firm touch, the pride, the fright,
and the fight that will bring the strength
to stiffen two spines. Both
will grow, will learn how to stand tall,
learn how to lean, to bend
to the will of others, to bathe
in the beauty of birthright.

v
It's not forgotten after the leave-taking,
the embrace will be remembered long
into those dark nights when scurrying insects
remind you, you are not the only living creature
on the planet and as the black wraps us
we will not forget the comfort we stole
in each others' arms, that brief moment
when we put all stoicism aside
and shared heartbeats that know
the sound of fear, the footfall of silence.

©K. Sweet

(photograph received from Texas T, thank you for the inspiration rosesm my prayers are with this young man, and others who work to make our world a better place.)


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## seawings

Beautifully said Karen...once again you have inspired me to write. This is more a prayer than a poem, that TexasT's son and all the sons and daughters will be returned to their families.

While the earth was still young
God gave us His son.
From that time on we too
have offered our sons

Wars and duty at home,
military or police service
They have given their lives,
that we may be free.

His son or ours,
their departure was of concern
Far away and in the line of fire,
duty would prevail without recourse.

Our fears and tears
pull at our heart and soul.
Praying we commend them to service,
begging for their safe return.

While in harms way
we can only put our faith in Him.
He knows our aches and fears,
for He too could only wait for His sons return.

Trust in Him
He will deliver.


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## Fisher Lou

Wow.... Lost for words. Simply wonderful, the both of you. Thanks.


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## Koru

i love knowing other people write and having a chance to read their writing, thank you for sharing your prayer/poem seawings. 

glad you liked them Fisher Lou. rosesm


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## Koru

gordaflatsstalker touched my muse with this beautiful photo posted under the thread Oyster Lake










*Oyster Lake Lode*

The day's fire burns low

paints a golden path

to the horizon. Dreams

flare in the distance, there,

just footsteps away.

©Karen Sweet

(thank you for the inspiration gordaflatsstalker rosesm )

member.php?u=35484


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## Koru

*4th day of Spring*

Soon there will be blankets spread
on paddock grass, buttercups
to place under chins.
Dandelions will stand tall
in the fast growing grass
of Spring and blue sky
will blatantly bless our land.
Soon warm Summer noons
will caress the ground
and fattening buds will explode
to give shade once again.

©K. Sweet

rosesm


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## Koru

i don't have a photo to go with this one...

*Ike's tug-o-war*

In the path of Ike I wonder
if the raging waves that washed
upon your shores, will return
to wash mine. I wonder

if they have smoothed the sand,
or left you beached
in only the way Mother Nature can,
abandoned in some kind of tough love

match that you can not possibly beat,
but you try anyway.
I traverse the coast, toe the sand, searching
for pieces of you, palming

the grains moored here, anchoring
myself on the high tide line,
just in case treasures of you
will surface, torn

between hoping they do,
and praying they don't.

©K. Sweet

rosesm


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## seawings

Our hearts and prayers are for all of you...together we will survive and rebuild:

The Hurricane

Like a summer thunderstorm,
rumbling in the distance,
its breezes ruffling the treetops,
it came creeping in the dark of night.

Silhouetted by the lightening,
the tree limbs thrashed 
wildly to and fro,
full of fury the winds attacked.

Rooftops strained, structures groaned,
limbs and leaves flew,
tree trunks snapped,
howling the winds now enveloped all.

Rain pelted the windows,
thrown angrily by the wind,
water sought and penetrated
every nook and opening.

Minutes seemed like hours,
the winds might forces enduring,
testing all in its path,
nothing would escape its power.

Bowed and broken,
soaked and flooded 
stripped of bark and leaves,
the trees suffered mightily.

Finally it passed,
leaving damage and debris everywhere.
We came out of our homes to see,
thankful for what had been spared.

Thankful for the lives spared,
for lives cannot be restored,
damages can be repaired,
we will rebuild and endure.


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## sandybottom

Nicely written. It's going to take time but we be back to normal. Then it will only be a memory.


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## Koru

well said, both Seawings and Sandy. maybe a memory with a somewhat bitter taste, but a stepping stone to better things.

rosesm


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## Koru

*

Just a pretty sunflower*

One survivor stands proud
from all the rest, and there were plenty
who lived, plenty who returned
picked up life and belongings
and continued to live.

One survivor shines out, a beacon
that has beaten the odds to stand tall,
haloed in sun rays, implanting
itself in memories opened
and ready.

One survivor gives back
pleasure and hope, and seeds
to be planted next season.

©K. Sweet

(Thank you Fisher Lou for the inspiration with your beautiful 'just a pretty flower' rosesm )


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## Fisher Lou

Thanks Koru, your poetic expression captures the sentiment of the moment. Wonderful poem.


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## Koru

this image drew me close... be warned, what i've written may not be what you expect as you may see something completely different in this image to what i saw...










*
Beyond Dead*

Between the leaves you float
free, high, seeking that light
that beckons, the brightness
that calls to you, carries your soul
beyond the dead blackness, out
where the breeze teases the sun
from the sky, tempts you
to tread that untried path.

© K. Sweet

(thank you for the inspiration madf1man with your 'inside lookin out' image rosesm)


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## sandybottom

WOW, KAREN!


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## madf1man

I envy your abilities Karen. Thanks for sharing them with us all.


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## Koru

from madf1man's thread 'Sunday Shooting Spree'









*
Rusted bells*

.....once sang with dawn's first breeze
calling Summer forward
to a porch where we stand
silently watching leaves tic, tic,
tic
across the wooden boards
that once held the light step

of dancers. Beyond
the weathered boards
shot with the rot of rainy season
a muddied sun climbs,
shortening the shadows,

warming the air without the music
of chimes and yet the music

is there in the leaf chatter,
the morning bird song,
in the rising sun as it strokes
the land with the unfurled rhythm
of new dreams.

©K. Sweet

(thank you for the inspiration Trey. you sure know how to make my muse 'dance'. rosesm)


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## madf1man

Wonderful words again Karen. Thanks for sharing them with us all. Trey


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## Koru

*Reflection*

We re-wander childhood in our dreams,
bike rides and blisters, tree houses
and bee stings, the constant chorus
of age tumbles from our mind
and we retrace those old lanes
as our fathers did before us.

There is a roteness to the memories
as if in reflection we know
we will find the answers,
not behind some soiled curtain,
but there, directly in front of us,
directly after our dream paths converge.

©K. Sweet

(photo and poem by K. Sweet. poem title by Fisher Lou - thanks Louis! rosesm)


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## Fisher Lou

Sweet! I like this one alot.


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## stargazer

Karen, I love it....You have a way with words.....And a camera.


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## Gator_Nutz

Ahhh you're back writing again. I love reading your work, especially after coming home from a particularly nasty day at work. It all goes well with your beautiful photos too. Even though we live on opposite sides of the world, it seems pretty obvious that we are not different.
James


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## sandybottom

This girl has talent! Nicely chosen words, Karen.


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## Koru

i love writing and i love photography. i am so lucky to be able to combine both. 

i am even more lucky that i can share my work. i love how more than one person (myself) can find some kind of connection to the pieces i share. i hope always, that in some way, what i share is helpful to others.

thank you for your thoughts. they are very much appreciated.

rosesm


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## Koru

*Not everything is black or white*









© K. Sweet.


----------



## Koru

from Fishn2's thread Prt 2 - Vietnam










*Things are different now*

Things are different now.
The lines etched in her face

show we are the same,
we age, and our skin dries

but the memories stay fresh,
as if watered each day with a sprinkle

of knowing what might have been
would change her into something else,

something she knows now
she would rather not be, something

she has learned to live without.

©K. Sweet

(photograph by Fishn2, thank you for the inspiration of your Vietnam photos rosesm )


----------



## Fishn2

Very nice Koru. 
Thank you for sharing.


----------



## Koru

a little different...










_©K. Sweet_


----------



## Fisher Lou

Very nice. I love the poem as well as the photo.


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## Koru

with the slow seep of Autumn...









_
©K. Sweet_
rosesm


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## Koru

.









_©K. Sweet_
rosesm


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