Bonding Sighs

If you look closely through the window bars You can catch a ghostly shape – ephemeral Memento of generations of students   Walking through trodden alleys to sit Their final rounds – from blank pages to hastily, Frantically scribbled ones. Their bearing strides

Pops of Color

Each year   People gather Around the lake Watch, as colors pop   In the night skies Red, blue, green, purple Silver and gold. They kiss, hug.   *Sparkle*

The Poppy and The Bee

  Playing with light Shades, colors, shapes and Matter, eyes of photographers   Just like those of painters – Though using different tools – Diligently portray Nature’s miracles,

Angling Around Millenium

Vibrating steps Reactive bridge Linking banks Lifting people   Striding forward Beholding Mankind’s craft And its forceful   Yet passing grip On Nature’s Universal force Of character.  

In the Eye of the Beholder

Let your imagination take over. Get ready to dive and embrace.   Close your eyes. Take a deep breath.   Now open them again Let it run wild.     You are underground.   Look around. What do you see? 

On Her Own

Part 1 – Him She is sitting by herself, looking up A book in her hands, basking in the sunlight, Watching the lake ripples crash on the shore. All alone.   I am watching her.


If we pay attention and watch closely Around us, or if we look back and observe Captures of moments past, They pop up and become evident   Interactions, connections, links   They are there – ever present, Obvious and exposed staring us In the eye – in the foreground Discreet and hidden – in the background


  UP! Your Strength – Blissful gift Walk, run, hike – Immersed in nature Reaching UP, all the way, Until you can’t climb any higher. And stop. Observe. Breathe it in, and out. You did it! You are standing on top of the world. 


Calm, soothing waves, Washing on the shore. Quiet rhythm, shaken By a boat sailing at large.   Peaceful contemplation Of a life-tight, natural element. I am attracted. Irresistibly. Drawn in. I don’t want to fight it.   I am giving in. I am shedding off My clothes, layer after layer. I am unbound. Liberated


Paved, concrete, dirt roads. Asphalt. Deserted, ghost spaces. Dead-ends.   Flowered paths, Private roads, And alley ways.   Painted walls. Busy, bustling avenues. Streets meeting, forming lines webbing.   Joining, yet escaping

My Space

Lone, peaceful comfort. Wooden lines and natural colors. High windows opening on balcony. Warm, scented, sunbathed space. Soft tunes and folk songs. Home, sweet, home.   Photographs and poem – Home – Day 1 of the Developing Eye 10-day Photo Challenge.