At a wood crafted table
Weathered, grayed
By rain, sun and shade
The silent echoes of trees
From which it was made
A robin red breast near
Its song a knowing wise
For it too sees the tree
In its now present disguise
So still, so quiet, I to be
To keep that robin near
On the lookout by me
Robin and I, hear our song
'Tis All One in Praise
The breath of trees
And summer days.
Rose Marie Raccioppi
Fence Post Lookout, Photograph, Stephen Baird, 2009, http://www.nikonsniper.blogspot.com
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THE WIND AND THE WILLOW
Now available in hardcover and softcover directly from Publish America.
Click on title, place title in search bar of Publish America Entry Page.
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ENJOY
Weathered, grayed
By rain, sun and shade
The silent echoes of trees
From which it was made
A robin red breast near
Its song a knowing wise
For it too sees the tree
In its now present disguise
So still, so quiet, I to be
To keep that robin near
On the lookout by me
Robin and I, hear our song
'Tis All One in Praise
The breath of trees
And summer days.
Rose Marie Raccioppi
Fence Post Lookout, Photograph, Stephen Baird, 2009, http://www.nikonsniper.blogspot.com
Special Announcement:
THE WIND AND THE WILLOW
Now available in hardcover and softcover directly from Publish America.
Click on title, place title in search bar of Publish America Entry Page.
Thank you for your order.
ENJOY
8 comments:
All creatures can enjoy the peace and beauty of the summer day.
Choice, And when we join in the joy of "all creatures" it is peace and beauty - thank you for your loving awareness.
Beautiful photo and beautiful tribute and praise song:
"Robin and I, hear our song
'Tis All One in Praise
The breath of trees
And summer days."
"The breath of trees and summer days"....I love it!!! Rose Marie, yours is one of the blogs that really brings me a deep kind of joy and tranquility, and that really says a lot about your poetry and your artwork - and the photos you choose to go with your words!!! I'm taking a wee break from blogging, well, my own blog that is! But I will surely be here as usual!
Karen, Intention most certainly brings its fulfillment. I wrote the poem and envisioned the photo to accompany it. Much to my delight a new follower appeared. And lo and behold, a photographer was he! I went to his blog to thank him for his visit, and among his many, many photographs was the Robin, just as I had envisioned it. Requested his permission and honored he said he would be! Thank You dear Karen. Life is GOOD!
Rain, Considering all that was featured in your last postings, I can appreciate a well deserved break. I must tell you, that since your "Tree Visitations" I cannot look at a tree trunk without you in heart. I have not abandoned the thought of your creating a book that would most certainly delight children of all ages! Thank you for all you do.
Rose Marie, when I first opened this posting and saw the "weathered, grayed" table it took me to one of my favorite places. In Douglas, Georgia, the log cabin my great-grandfather built in 1884 still stands. A few hundred yards away are what remains of the home he built in 1904, destroyed by a tornado in 2005.
For most the cabin would probably be seen as an eyesore and the house remains are slowly returning to the earth or have been toted away by family members and repurposed.
What I see is what you described so beautifully today. I see the trees cut down by my great-grandfather and carefully crafted into shelter for his family. I see his hands at work, also weathered and grayed over time.
I visit every year (they are on property still owned by a family member) and spend hours sitting and reflecting, much like the robin in your post. For me it is the "breath of trees and summer days" now long gone, but forever in my heart.
Thank you for bringing such wonderful memories to me this morning.
Rhonda, Now the heart strings are truly at play. I am sitting right at your side, feeling the presence of those fond memories and the whispers within the walls of the log cabin and home built by your grandfather. Trees and their almost endless transformation fascinate me. Thank you for bringing me to yet another place, the one held in reverie.
thanks rose marie.
nikonsniper steve
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