winter storm

avalanching clouds
maneuvre a porpoise sky
finding santuary
on chartreuse landscape
glazing loam with ivory
as chiffon wind weaves
periwinkle hues
to mantle sparkling globules
soaking the umber
azure clears
to unravel synergy...
elements transcend

55 thoughts on “winter storm

  1. Your description is beautifully amazing and it makes this winter storm sound like a winter wonderland placed upon paradise. This was lovely, Iโ€™ve never been more impressed with a cloud than how you described it Yassy, you make this a sight to behold. You are a dynamic descriptor and a work of art๐ŸŒน๐ŸŒน๐ŸŒน. This was awesome!!

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    1. I so thank you for your heartwarming thoughts. You are a true friend. Thank you , Jo. I think you are way too generous with your appreciation but I so esteem this appreciation that you show.

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      1. I love how humble you are Yassy, stay that way for it will keep you grounded. You deserve my esteem and more, you are an awesome writer and your words are magically creative. Itโ€™s a good thing you write in the โ€œpresentโ€ because you have a โ€œgiftโ€! ๐Ÿ™‚

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      2. Your a kindred spirit , Jo. We are like minded people and that is why it is so easy to connect with you. I honor and understand your values and so you do mine. I think that is what makes our friendship strong. You keep well. Stay safe. Bye.

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  2. You keep painting like this and we may have to get larger pencil-sharpeners as you craft such fine pictures: some say talent, I prefer close attention to the work of craftsmanship and observation and a love affair with the many hues and tints words hold for those who look. Wonderful, Lady!

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  3. How could I not fall for words? My first book was words – Webster’s Unabridged: made humans – especially of the order Parentia – much easier to understand and later as I waxed wicked, a path to protect; and, yes, attack if necessary without so much as a whisker moved or defiance detected all because I alone amongst bullies and other cads knew the code. Then I found my true friend: Dewey. His decimal system unlocked so many more paths. Next seven lives I will devote to walking those highways and then I might find myself worthy to write. Meantimes, I meander. And only stalwart branches from the stream I sometimes know actually are Sequoias vice twigs, reach out and say friend, such as Bruce The Juice, Yassy The Magnificient and Mick The Truly Astounding – and all of recent decanting. I am treasured enow. I have two nieces-2-pieces who word-work their various ploys, the second sidling up next to her doctorate in a sub-branch of English and Medieval-ism of somebranch or more likely not (she will be back hereabouts next week for a bit: I shall ask, but upon entreats by myself and her mother is collecting a Masters of Library Science to pad her progress toward whatever she later may discover hiding between and behind and be-fore the words. The other niece I think I have apriori-tized a PhD Voice (Opera) from The Jacobs School in Bloomington, Indiana, who like her cuz is a wordtease and teaze and tickler and sometimes even enjoys my japes. I have taken both to see newest versions of Rumplestiltskin and Little Shop of Horrors whist each was still in elementary/middle school and they both said: But Uncle J don’t you hate musicals? Yep. So why this? The Words, beautiful young ladies: the words!

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