Thursday, May 14, 2009


Softly they come
thumbing up from
firm ground

protruding unharmed.
Easily crumbled
and yet

how they shouldered
the leaf and mold
aside, rising

breathing obscurely,
still as stone.

By the slumping log,
by the dappled aspen,
they grow alone.

A dumb eloquence
seems their trade.

Like hooded monks
in a sacred wood
they say:
Tomorrow we are gone.
(Author-Jane Whitledge)

Tomorrow, Friday the 15th I'll be putting up some new beads on my website, mostly toadstools...but I will also have some new fun "Beachy" pendants also!

See you tomorrow!