From My Front Porch

I stop now and again, on the inter sanctum that is my porch. Always trying to calm my racing brain, I stop to gaze out into the beyond. I sit on my old wooden bench, and watch the summer unfold. So much happening,, so much beauty to behold. Hollyhocks tower gently over the sun streaked door. Honey bees hover industriously over red ripe roses, plumaging for just a little more, sweet tantalizing nectar. Out over behind the bending willow tree, lies a sapphire blue pond. Frogs sit patiently croaking their soulful songs. Sometimes I wish I could correspond. Off in the distance, dragonflies and turquoise damsels zoom high. I often wonder, Are they going to touch the top of the sky? In the rolling golden fields tall and stout corn waits for harvest. Cant wait to see how much it yields. But that time hasn’t come yet. A bird begins to sing, followed by another. Until its one long melodious string, The trees that are their homes becomen alive. On the darkening horizon, pitch black ominous clouds roll in. all of natures chattering falls silent, creatures know now to be hidden. Some days the skies open up wide with a fierceness as lightening crashes. Getting a look close up, I don not hide , I am never afraid, to steal a single look I never afraid while on the confines of my porch I never run in fear, or even turn away Don’t want to miss a single moment of Mother Nature and this beautiful summerday