A description of what started this particular blog can be found in its first entry --Feb. 9, 2009. It's about healing.
Hiding in Grandma's bean tee pee is a fond memory. Thanks for re-awaking it.
Most kind, Susan. Thank YOU!
Geo, I don't always comment, but I'm always here. Poetry requires more contemplation than comment. I quietly absorb, and I ascend on my trellis towards the sun.
Jon, fellow heliotrope, most pleased you are here.
Or out of time.
But yes! Out of time comes the trellis and mind, so why not the thoughts themselves?. Most perceptive!
The less words you use, the more intense the thoughts get, Geo.
I try to keep my intense thoughts small, KK. Easier to carry.
Quite the climber, there.Norma's does the shots, Geo does the poems, a good combination.
Thanks, Margie. Yes, a good combination --when we can remember what we planted.
Des liserons ? ou ipomées ?
Peut-être, mais la forme des feuilles suggère haricots.
A gardening and poetic delight!
Thanks! We are still waiting for the vine to sprout something identifiable.
I do believe I see a leprechaun in the upper right corner. Perhaps you will have a magic bean sprout.
Sitting in my kitchen, reading kind comments from people scattered around the world --clearly magic! Whether by bean sprout or capricious leprechaun, we've been raised to an astonishing future, Emma.
Very nice. They seem to be reaching for the sky.
I have not seen a Bean Flower as yet. However your poem reminds me of India where we could see some purple flowers on a vine. I think they were PeasIt is neat how you write poems next to pictures by Norma.
Please, say hello! I welcome your comments, thoughts, even criticisms!