Shelley Ayres

In need of adventure I climb to my tree house.

Eyes closed the swaying tree house becomes a pirate’s ship.

I ride the rise and fall of waves at sea.

The creaking ship’s deck and the dancing branches are not branches at all.

They are drunken sailors singing “Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of Rum.”

A blue jay squeals, “Ahoy Matey” as it lands on the ship’s rail.

“Arrgh! Are there really blue parrots?” I wonder.

The blue parrot sounds his warning as he takes to the wind.

“Beware, the new cap’n of the sea,” and I laugh my most sinister laugh.

September 8, 2013

My Garden

Shelley Ayres

I stumble sleepy eyed, through the door to greet the glorious gift of morning.

I meander through my garden, hugging each blossom with my awakening eyes.

I breathe in the sighs of each leaf as they shake off the dew of evening slumber.

I smile as their upward lifted faces stretch like a cat to give thanks to the sun as it softly caresses them with the hope of a new day.

I listen with delight as hummingbirds gracefully dance from blossom to blossom, kissing each cheek ever so gently with a promise of return.

I am comforted yet energized as if feeling the pulse of ocean waves thundering to shore.

I feel alive and grateful for the blessing of today.

I bid my garden adieu with the same adoring promise of the hummingbird.

November 2, 2008