Martas poems:

I ts raining now... the rain that Nature seems sometimes to gift the South in lieu of snow. I walk wrapped in the water's surprisingly warm, shimmering embrace, The clouds above me are like flowing satin pillows of gray and fading purple and tall trees look on, their rough bark mellowed by a curtain of mist. The deep, still green grass is highlighted with drops of crystal, every blade swaying with a life of it's own, yet remaining one, a silent symphony of hypnotic movement. I walk in this... Sign in to see full entry.