
Ripe, the words,
in skies and seas
in sunset’s linger
in summer’s breeze.
Plump, the words,
in rain-filled clouds
or mist-less air
the view surrounds.
the thoughts arouse.
Spiced, the words,
in rushing streams
in forests deep
with endless dreams.
Find them, hold them, smell them, taste!
Interweave what nature’s graced.
**
(The handwriting in the above photoshopped image belongs to John Steinbeck, author)