|
| ThreeHeadedClover has more writing friends who are talented and gifted. Read their work here. |
|
|
 |
| SPRINGWELL LANDMARK. Deserted valleys of purple and gold …In a different light Stone mountains against the sky The rest of the world …Silver in the light Kane River flames blown to the sea …Turned in the tide A violent beating earth Cast over with ancient eyes …In a different light Lizard trail scars towards the afternoon Out on the lifeless sterile plains The river runs dark Under rusted stars Mantel clock stillness of the barren ridges Time melts under the river bridge Down in the orchards of darkness …Reap the sorrow Foothills struggling under the moon Windswept sparks cut the sky …In a different light. by Cowboy Junkie |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| It was just a touch of love to be in your arms For just a few hours Just a few surrounding songs It was just a touch of forever To be by your side Just a few memories Just a few highlighted sighs It was just a touch of love To be in the midst of your tommorows Just a few fingers of echoes Just a few moments borrowed |
| We walk on stones That cross over our hearts Learning to forget Forgetting what we start We walk over our passes That lead to nowhere at all Learning to survive Forgetting who to call (another great poem by Annie) |
| Stones |
| An article graciously sent to me by bagpuss. To read some of bagpuss' writing, click here. |
| Crow Windows. Rock cairns scattered amid wild grasslands Montana stars glinting like Toledo steel Tracks lead to the river Pushing through wildflower shoals Electric clouds crack coal flame skies A ravens croak…across the seasons The white mans burden a relic in the snow Buffalo robes and battle shields A rusted time-piece and ivory bones A picture of desolation tinged with the bitterness of death Medicine songs haunt the wind scoured plains “Take from me my shadow my soul shall take to flight I am Absaroka I am the last of my kind Colours flying in the wind Prairie fires through the winter wheat The mystic sees the rolling hills Under the thunder hooves of pte The lights of a thousand fires Underneath the brilliant stars. by Cowboy Junkie |
 |
 |
|
 |
| Bridal Veil Falls, Highlands, NC, Summer, 2001 |
| That summer in the Mediterranean You and I put time out to sea Creation was made for two I had been desolate in heart Like that barn falling in to rot You were still missing that special touch That he had given you. Lost. Days were spent on the beach Merriment in the golden sun Sensations never were like this Before. Nights satisfied by a lingering, A small cafe and the street musicians. Hand touching hand; eyes staring into Fate. Packing our bags on the last Day. I must return to a career. You back to your perusals At the university. Knowing that My heart will never forget Our dancing in the mistral That summer in south France. T.A. Thompson |
| Wake Up to a Gentle Breeze |
| Sunday gardening: Bits of hard work under my nails |
| by Wintersflower |
| Satisfaction |
 |
| Yes, I remember the heat-wave, I was cold all year. When everyone else was baking I was freezing within my mind. Yes, I remember the water-shortage, For I could have solved it all with my tears; As I shivered in my old coat, On those hot summer days. by Lord Pineapple |
| I Remember the Heat Wave |
| haiku by TA babes with tans need men with big hands rub in deep |
 |