Posted in Social

Nature Is Gorgeous

Posted in Poetry

Sweetest Scent of Flowers: A Love Poem by L. M. Montes

In a flower’s sweetest scent,
thoughts of you on me descend,
fill me with your words of love,
then carry me to heaven above.




Posted in Writing

Be the Wind

Every major change of seasons blows in or out with a type of wind. It’s a force of nature we can’t deny, but we can certainly be a part of. We watch as leaves turn beautiful colors at the end of summer/beginning of autumn, as leaves blow away and leave tree limbs naked and snow takes their place, as snow melts and buds grow anew once more, and as buds flourish into stunning arrays of lush green leaves of all shapes and flowers into color beauties painted by God.

You, too, can be a force of nature with your writing. “Paint” your words across the page as the mood or wind strikes or blows. You can be as strong a force with winds up to hurricane strength with your words, or you can be a gentle breeze depending on what it is your are writing. The choice is yours.

Posted in Social

A Sunrise Above the Rest

Sunrise over Lake Huron, Michigan, USA
Posted in Social

Roses from My Garden

Posted in Social

Trees Equal Peace

Posted in Social

Peace

Posted in Poetry

Sprinkles of Peace by L. M. Montes

A beach swathed in varied light as time moves on–
mountains dressing themselves in snow with honored presence–
melodious music sprinkling peace from beaks of birds–
leaves on trees waving as wind rushes by–
a kiss caressing a cheek–
a hand holding the gentle and meek–
passion’s emotive gaze from eye to eye.

Posted in Poetry

Oceanic Symphony by L. M. Montes

In the roar of the ocean
the waves whisper–
breezes tickle–
feathering their way
over waters so vast,
conducting a symphony
so loud yet so fair.

Photo by Zukiman Mohamad on Pexels.com
Posted in Poetry

Nature’s Concerto by L. M. Montes

Greens of glory glistened
while floating by on turquoise,
trees with yellowed leaves waved
as nature’s orchestra played
a soothing symphony,
lapping water slurped upside
a tiny boat set adrift,
whistling concertos breezed from
holes in wooden rafts of days gone by,
nature plays for nature
when no one is around,
then night time lifts its curtain
and nothing makes a sound.