In No-Man's Hand

A treasury of times, forever evergreen, sown in limbs of maple and of pine, like vast embroideries that kiss a coutry-rich skyline Skipping stones and marbled rocks, those trees that arch across the creek; the doors wide open, nude of locks and fields of berries and of leeks. The gatherings of smiling kin, the barbeques and friendly talks, the smile that really starts within and silence on those country walks The pumpkin patches, leafy piles, the caterpillars wrapped for sleep; the dorky scarecrow always smiles as hungry flocks pause their retreat, The roadside lined with produce stands and wagons heavy with a farmer's wealth and grandma stretches loving hands preserving goods for family health. The cattle huddled 'fore the storm, the pastures still in winter chill; but on the inside, none forelorn while watching magic at the sill. The sled rides and the snowballs, a joy that's almost free; adventures far beyond the walls of keyboards and TV's. The smell of fresh cut grass in spring, the sound of tractors plowing through; the red beneath the robin's wings as sights of green spread as if all new. Those moments spent in calm reflection and lessons learned while holding nature's hand, the feel of secure, safe protection while living in the palm of no-man's hand...