Photo Challenge by SYLVAIN LANDRY
A response to Sylvain’s challenge theme of: Cook
“There is no sincerer love than the love of food” George Bernard Shaw
Fruit
Fruit in trees
Fruit in a basket
Fruit, melting in your mouth
Category Archives: Travel
travel, traveling, travel blog
Food, Food, Food and Some Coffee (SL-WEEK 35): Five
Food, Food, Food and Some Coffee (SL-WEEK 35): Four
Food, Food, Food and Some Coffee (SL-WEEK 35): Three
Food, Food, Food and Some Coffee (SL-WEEK 35): Two
Food, Food, Food and Some Coffee (SL-WEEK 35): One
A Bench to Sit on (The Bench Series) Three
Posted in the Bench Series, Poetry and Photography
“I don’t generally like running. I believe in training by rising gently up and down from the bench” Satchel Paige
A Bench to Sit on
Share this:
A Bench to Sit on (The Bench Series) Two
Posted in the Bench Series, Poetry and Photography
“I don’t generally like running. I believe in training by rising gently up and down from the bench” Satchel Paige
A Bench to Sit on
Share this:
A Bench to Sit on (The Bench Series) One
Posted in the Bench Series, Poetry and Photography
“I don’t generally like running. I believe in training by rising gently up and down from the bench” Satchel Paige
A Bench to Sit on
I was looking for
A bench to sit on
What I hoped to score
Something close to a lawn
To lay my tired self
On a softer shelf
Then I saw it
The bench, made of stone
When I tried to sit
I felt it to my bones
Too hard for a fit!
Moving forward
I found one, made of wood
Maybe it wasn’t hard
Rather suitably good
Too soft for a fit!
So once again
I had to complain
But I knew, the right seat
Was just in reach
I just had to seek
A little while longer
As I moved along
The feeling now stronger
I knew it wouldn’t be long
I was close to finding
As I saw the metal shining
I finally found it
A bench made of metal
For me to sit
Soft as a petal
A purr-fect fit
Share this:
Favourite Photo Friday 2016-03-04: Three
Posted in Fav Foto Friday #32
Photography and Poetry
“Clouds suit my mood just fine” Marie Lu, Champion
Three
Dark clouds low in the sky
Painted with the greyest of die
It is calm in the storm’s eye
Birds into their nests quickly fly
Nothing moves, not even a butterfly
Before the rain pours down from the sky
