Scraps of Sunshine 1 through 6


Sitting idle in the late afternoon,

                                        the sun

                                                     sifts dust motes through the window.


The adolescent morn sulks about

                           trying to hide its natrually smiling face

                                                                by hiding behind the skirts

                                           of clouds dressed for rain.


The hour of winter is late;

                                The faded sun hangs onto the southern sky

                                                             By a slender silken thread.


Brazen poppies, rushing the season,

                                       strumpeting across the hillsides

                                                                                shaming the grass.


Puffs of dandelion clouds hover above the sod;

                         toss grayed heads in the breeze;

                                                             loose the bonds of earth.


Ocean-born wind nudges dunes

                           into ever-changing patterns,

                                         chanting a mantra of forever as it goes.


© 2-10-90 C. Elizabeth Carl

© 5-6-10 C. Elizabeth (Carl) Elias

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Tophani2287 6 years ago from Auburn Hills, MI

You poem is beautiful. I see that you have such a creative, obsevent and appreciative soul.

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