Thursday, September 23, 2004

a soul's age

under his intuitive hands she flourished, and under his earthly attentions she thrived, aware, even as she tended heavenward, that her grace was fleeting and her loveliness ephemeral.
unfolding, flowering, wilting, waning: this is nature's way, and, sometimes, it seems - sadly but simply - the way of the world.


  1. *grin*
    wonderful personification, Lynn.

  2. >chuckle<
    *Another perfect (or pretty damn' close) and unexpected combination of words and picture.
    You're making me think I must get broadband.

  3. You have important visitors here, Lynn.
    Like the words as well.

  4. simply elegant prose with to bring this to life. after reading your posts, my thoughts are like catch fire with ideas about the action not shown in the viewfinder. (Is she a perrenial?)

  5. I always like images of worn gloves...they tell the stories that our hands can not, because we always wash away the toil. Juxtaposed with the flower, this is a very powerful image.