flowers
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In the garden of my grandmother’s house, magnolias bloomed like whispers. their petals soft as secrets shared, fragrant memories drifting on warm breezes, shadows of afternoons spent in laughter. Azaleas, bright as a child’s laughter, their bold hues painting the air, each blossom a promise of joy, cuttings planted with threads of love, each… Read more
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In the corner of a sun drenched window a tiny seedling grows, its green hypocotyl curling toward the light I noticed this was a rare creation birthed from whispered promises, and to the quietdevotion of hands that watered,loved, and spoke life into the soil She is not merely a flower ,but a beacon of resilience,… Read more
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In the newness of each dawn before winter ,Laura Rose steps into the dew drops of her earth Between Glastonbury and Butleigh There her hands are as a compass guiding through bramble and fern where wild greens are collected along with their secrets A palette of emerald dreams gathered with reverence and love; berries, flowers,… Read more
The Quill of Samantha Grace Newcastle 