Tis the season

Maybe it's the  season

for reflection.

Looking forward, looking back.

Lighting candles all over the house

and loving

the warm glow they emit.

Fragments of words in my mind,

as many as candy canes in a jar.

Looking out at the twinkle of the frost

late last night in our garden,

thankfulness in my silent,

wanting heart.

Tis the season,

indeed.



Current book on nightstand
Same as yesterday

Camera today
Canon Eos 40d

Listening to
The Berlin Children's Choir

Drinking
Chai tea

Jobs yet to do
Zillions

Ode

The play of  light through the attic window,

Ray LaMontagne on my ipod in my right ear.

The true and beautiful words you whispered

in my ear over the last two days.

Memories of Italian light falling softly over the

Tuscan hills.

Creating a little Heaven on earth for ourselves.

In whatever way we can.

For me,

the simplicity of  filling a bowl with apples.

Putting a dozen pink roses in a glass vase.

Settling down on the sofa

last night with a hundred texts from you,

and a copy of John Keats

Ode to Autumn, falling open,

on my knee.