new snapshot

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I don't know if it's safe to post here anymore, or who might still be hanging around. It's been awful quiet for a spell. Anyway, here's a (kinda) winter snapshot from the bayou.

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The wind followed the bayou all morning. Wet and heavy, it had come from somewhere down in the warm and salty gulf stretching over the southern horizon to where ancient temples wear the emerald robes of ruin.

It smelled of lightless depths and the creatures which lived and died in the cellars of the sea. It carried the memory of salt grasses and mud flats; the bitter aromas of razor clams and wild sage hugging ranges of ragged dunes. The low clouds it brought sheltered the day from sunlight, and turned the shallow puddles into looking glass shards serving their own vanity.

Twisting along the sawgrass and blown-out cattails of blackened banklines, rushing through the brown feathered limbs of the autumn cypress, it brought the weight of itís history to pound against the old green-painted door, calling me to breathe itís moist embrace. I walked out, leaning into it as if anxious for itís intimacy, anxious for itís stories, for whispered tales of drowned men and forgotten empires, and teetered there, between wind and earth as itís burden dripped from my hair like tears, and itís sincerity moaned under the cottage eaves.

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-- Lon Frank (lgal@exp.net), December 13, 2001

Answers

Beautiful as always, Lon. 'Word pictures' are an amazing thing. They allow you to feel like you're there with the writer, seeing the same things.

It seems as though the 'troll' posts only on that one particular thread. Not too much harm done in my opinion.

Thanks for the postcard!

-- Gayla (privacy@please.com), December 14, 2001.


Lon, how lovely! And it's soooo good to 'hear' from you again. If I had your way with words, I'd paint you a picture of a winter sunrise here. Since I don't, I'll stick to my haiku and try to create just a little sense of what I've seen this past week.

.

Pearly salmon sky Snowy ground returns the hue As winter morn dawns.

.

Each puff of breath shows Snow crunches with each movement Still, cold morning breaks.

.

I think I need practice! :-)

-- Tricia the Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), December 17, 2001.


"pearly salmon sky"

That image has been playing hide - n- seek in my mind for a couple of days now. Thanks, Trish.

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-- Lon Frank (lgal@exp.net), December 18, 2001.


On a cloudy winter morning, the sky seems to glow like the inside of pearl... a diffuse soft pink light. I'd have used pearlescent pink, but then the meter's wrong.

-- Tricia the Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), December 19, 2001.

Tricia, you're a master at word-crafting already. But by ALL MEANS, please practice some more! ;-)

-- Gayla (privacy@please.com), December 19, 2001.


Pearly salmon sky, calling me Over northern horizons To a friend never met

To hearth and warmth, and Silence of white, Trod to metered telling,

Love poems and pictures Of her soul.

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I spent a moment thinking Of you today, And my heart yearns To bring you each, Laughter and peace

And baby kisses!

Merry Christmas to all my FRL family

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-- Lon Frank (lgal@exp.net), December 25, 2001.


Frosty morning air
Sunshine on red canyon walls
A lone eagle soars...

(((((Lon)))))

Merry Christmas to you!

-- Gayla (privacy@please.com), December 25, 2001.

A Christmas present -

What beautiful poetry!

Makes my heart rejoice :-)

-- Tricia the Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), December 26, 2001.


Lovely words, ((((all))))! Hope each and every one of you has a healthy, and prosperous new year ahead!

-- Aunt Bee (Aunt__Bee@hotmail.com), December 29, 2001.

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