Freshness,

Is now a state of mind,

And it can be seen, …

I too have shed,

Parts of me,

Along the way. …

To accept,

Give and thrive,

Wearing a smile, …

I went through life,

Obsessed with creating,

And leaving something behind. …

The will to overcome,

And thrive under stress,

May now seem displaced. …

Relics from the past,

That still work.

Rendering a beauty, …

Patiently gathered,

One by one,

Cleaned and now, …

Not everyone,

Can appreciate art.

It is a gift, …

Laying on the grass,

Tired,

Watching clouds drift by. ….

If the path,

Is to be seen,

The heart must listen, …

The magic of spring,

Is in the air.

A fresh breeze, …

Kind hearts,

Are often found,

In unexpected places, …

When the moment arrives,

To savor the past,

I need close my eyes, …

Sometimes what I see,

Is hard to understand.

Then one day, …

It is the simplicity,

And beauty of nature,

That brings me peace. …

Dried wood,

Drying grass.

It’s an arid day, …

In unexpected,

Quiet corners of the land,

Dwell poet farmers, …

Love does come,

In different shades,

And colors. …

Now that age,

Has slowly erased,

Youthful freshness, …

To get old,

Rust,

Then break, …