Guest guest Posted October 19, 2001 Report Share Posted October 19, 2001 Beloved magnolia blossoms, star magnolias, shooting across my sky, One morning, before the sun rose, a man name Muir, now HE arose, and he found the crystal cathedral, shimmering next to the Merced, and there were great sober, echoing halls of sugar pines that led the way to the central, lily-flowing alter, heaped with monkshead. He noticed that other pilgrim's peaked around the hawthorne pews, and each one was dressed in Sunday's best, tuxedo chipmunks stood amid their brethern possum, and the soprano in the choir, the oriole began the hymns from Natures sacred Psalmbook, singing to God His Glory. The winsome sisters of white azalea, those pure, ecstatic virgins stood and held hands with brother Turk's Cap, exchanging recipes for Halvah. But only when the hermit of the valley, the wild, wandering rose sadhu rambled down the pathway and twined and wound around the crucifixion of the Lord, the mercylook from liquidamber gazed from golden drapes, only then, did all the congregation fall on knees, in awe and adoration. Dearest Bobby, I really am enamored, and I breathtakingly recieve the beauty of your painting. Sometimes it's just a flash of light, a tasty morsel that satiates, and your little "pictures," and your painting is that tasty life-giving moment. Thank you for brightening my already lovely life with such beauty. I feel like a fiddlehead fern, and your work is straight sunlight, and there is such cool and deep shade from you to this shy fern. Love, Mazie Love, Mazie _______________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts
Join the conversation
You are posting as a guest. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.
Note: Your post will require moderator approval before it will be visible.