Poetry, notes, and drawings by William Michaelian
Love itmakes me think of my Jilly-Bean...
William!This is so full of sweet remembers, "sweet peasin a baby food jar" in this words are so much William,oh now I'm in my past :-)thank you!!!
Good imagery to start the day. Thank you
Thanks, Transcend. I like the sound of that.Wonderful, Laura — I’m glad they could take you there.For a day itself in bloom... Thanks, Anthony.
"bare feet and armsher last sweet peasin baby food jar"wonderful imagerycombined.~robert
I love letting the unspoken have its quiet say. Beautiful!
i couldn't avoid to taste the space among objects you have created....it put my mind in a calmer atmosthere .
yes. and extra points for near rhyme of arm and jar. (btw, next shipment coming soon.)
The sound of silence.... Thanks, Joe!Caio, I love that observation, and your reaction. Beautiful.Thanks, Gerry. ’tis a key element, I think. But of course in something this short, everything is. And thanks for the great news. My around-the-clock watch begins.
I remember VERMEER (Keukenmaid) when I read it! Or like A.Wyeth... Real ART (terrible word)is peace-expression!
Thanks, Rudhi. I like your painting-peace equation....
William you write just enough to get my thoughts thinking and my mind painting a picture. I may not always see your words as others do but I want you to know what they say to me. When I read this I thought of a beautiful little blond, curly haired, fair skinned little girl who has just started walking. Chubby little, legs, arms and bare feet. She is wearing a pretty little cotton sundress. Her parents are looking at her and thinking she is growing up so fast...
Janice, I’m delighted these few words have brought such lovely thoughts to mind. The door is always open to interpretation. By adding yours, you add to the poem, and I’m grateful for that. I think everyone sees and feels something a little different, and that’s as it should be. Thank you.
Sweet peas would line the fence of our yard when I was young. I loved the smell. Picked bunches and bunches. I was alone. It was the best place for me. All the words were unspoken. Spilling now.
Experience in bloom, thought-fragrance, faithfully arranged and given....
And so you do share the intimate, this more than many other things I can think of. Lovely, especially after just getting back from those country sideroads once again. Tomorrow night won't be peas - but raspberries instead.xoerin
A miracle in their own right. We brought some home today ourselves. Thanks, Erin.
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