First Fall

I'm winding down on the first year in my cottage.

My own home,
my oasis,
my shelter,
my blissful place,
colorful,
old but new,
peaceful,
happy,
secure,
mine.

What an incredible year it has been, from stringing up the first Christmas lights to watching the leaves fall off the maple tree.

And the dogwoods, the dogwoods, sweet Goddess, the exquisite dogwoods.

I shook heavy wet snow off the branches,
feeling like a little girl dancing in the snow showers.

I marveled at the huge white blossoms,
stars of velvet outside my windows.

I tenderly watered all through the hot summer,
soaking their feet,
creating a little wetland oasis.

I sat on my rocker on the front porch,
sheltered by green,
breathing the lacy softness
into my body,
peaceful.

And now, the beginning of the long rest,
storing energy,
making dreams for the
winter's memory.

Wistful,
sad,
yearning
promises of
more
to come,
colorful fantasies,
otherworldly,
hints of
fairyland.

Peace