She leaves him breadcrumbs,
He makes a feast of it.
She pays him lip service,
He hears her singing his praises.
She barely casts him a glance,
He feels lavished by her attention.
The bounty of his affections wilts in her hands;
Her skin so thick that Cupid’s arrows unable to find their mark.
Why then can he not be released from his dream-walk?
Surely, his is not the only heart that is destined to break.
© photo and words by Pamela Ferris-Olson
March 27, 2014
Before the storm there is a yawning calm
With experience the signs are plain as daylight
With wisdom it is time to make preparations
To stand against the onslaught
Though the clouds gather and a chill clutches the air,
There are those who chose to fiddle about seemly unconcerned
Their philosophy, just as sure as the squall comes
It will go,
Acceptance there is nothing to be done
Their fate to be blown about in the wind, to land where ever they are tossed;
But I prefer to seek your counsel
Discover how I may navigate to the leeward side
And await the coming of fair weather.
© photo and words by Pamela Ferris-Olson
March 26, 2014
Ornamental face
Masterful camouflaging;
Who lies underneath?
© photo and words by Pamela Ferris-Olson
March 25, 2014
A buddy system, such a life saver,
No one should ever have to go it alone;
Weather, fair or stormy,
Someone’s there to lend a hand.
Independence isn’t all it’s cracked up to be;
Interdependence, is more amenable for living.
Their torches flickering in the freshly mown grass;
The fireflies dance for both friend and foe.
© photo and words by Pamela Ferris-Olson
March 24, 2014
Talk has lost its value
It can be had any time
Anywhere —
In the subway
On the street
In an elevator—
People talk everywhere—
In public restroom stalls
In their cars
In produce aisles between the onions and potatoes—
They even text, small talk—
Across the table from their dates
In movie theaters, and
During wedding ceremonies.
Before cell phones people knew the real value of talk
It was available in limited places;
Time slowed down waiting for a call
Time sped up rushing home to be there when it finally came.
So much joy when it was received
So maddening when it was missed
Even more maddening when someone else was using the phone
Or left the extension off the hook
‘Cause no call could come in,
But when it did such joy.
You’d retreat to a closet for private talk
Hopeful no one would pick up the extension
Listen in;
Those were the days when talk was valued.
Not today,
Talk is cheap.
© photo and words by Pamela Ferris-Olson
March 23, 2014
Sensing her vulnerability
Romeo offers his affection—
Affirmation for her discontented soul—
She has value
At least to him.
Once she is close enough,
Has fallen hard down the rabbit hole,
She’ll waken to his world—
One of her worst nightmares—
A world seemingly without exit.
© photo and words by Pamela Ferris-Olson
March 22, 2014
Been fishing around for the right words
Every one of them seemed artificial
So I choose to say little
Nothing really
Better to remain silent
Than to make silly noises
And, that, I think, is what you’d prefer
Anyway.
©photo and words by Pamela Ferris-Olson
March 21, 2014
Though the crop land still lies fallow
With a crunchy crust spread across its surface,
The family pet contentedly rests on a blanket of sunbeams
Her nose twitches as she searches for a scent of rabbit
Hidden in the daffodils,
Her feet abruptly animate;
The chase is on.
© photo and words by Pamela Ferris-Olson
March 20, 2014
Pushy thirty,
Pushing forty,
Pushing fifty,
The road before me getting shorter
Carrying baggage from the miles left behind;
Definitely older, questionably wiser,
Determined to walk on as long as
I can.
©photo and words by Pamela Ferris-Olson
March 19, 2014
Worn deep in our psyche
A well rehearsed dance—
Two pugilists in the ring—
No need to size up the other,
Patterns all too familiar:
Weave
Swing
Duck
Jab
We continue until one of us falters, and
After a rest
The dance begins again.
©photo and words by Pamela Ferris-Olson
March 18, 2014
4 the love of light 