Roses, Roses, Roses, Roses by Barbara Carvallo

One of the most beautiful roses in my garden is also my favorite, Just Joey. Below her is one of the most fragrant roses, Scentimental. One of the most beautifully shaped follows, Remember Me. Finally, the most romantic is the Peace Rose. Scentimental and Remember Me were planted in memory of my dear brother and sister-in-law respectively. Scentiment is for Greg and Remember Me for Rhonda.

Changing of the Seasons by Barbara Carvallo

Autumn’s sweetness moves softly though Summer’s last days like a lover’s whisper. Flowers, dramatic and lustrous, hold the morning dew in reverent prayer. The elegant ballet of September days unfolds in rusty-gold and Earth tones. October, the holiest of all months, swells toward Samhain, and the Witches prepare to gather with the Crone.  In November, Mother Hecate dressed in royal purple, snowy-white hair streaming out to cover the landscape, turns the Wheel of the Seasons slowly toward Spring.  All of Nature, adepts of the Craft and magical creatures watch the Sacred and Great Divide for the gathering storms of Winter, chanting Her ballad in deepest devotion.

In the cool, still, velvety night,
By the dark of the moon in silver starlight,
The Crone raises Her cloak and takes to flight.

High above the slumbering, shadowy ground,
She sores through the trees without a sound,
For company a raven and a three-headed hound.

In a voice deep as darkness She begins to sing,

Ancient words of power with solemnity ring,
I am the Goddess; I am Magic on the Wing.

This post is dedicated to my dear friend and sister, Peno.  In solidarity and love.

Inevitability of Fall by Barbara Carvallo

September mornings are more Fall then Summer.  They taste of bracing mountain breezes, and the light is smooth and clear.  By mid-morning Summer begins to struggle for her old dominance.  The late blooming flowers give us the illusion that she is winning, but alas Fall is coming as surely as the next Full Moon and the Winter’s snow.  

Just for the Beauty of it All by Barbara Carvallo

In a world that grows uglier every day, remember the Bard and that some lifeforms will never cease to be beautiful. They live in our memories long after they fade from view. Blessed Be.

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to Time thou grow’st.
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

William Shakespeare, Sonnet 18

Blessings by Peno Hardesty

there is struggle in Louisiana---there is now struggle in Indiana---there is sorrow in Italy and wars around the globe----por favor---take just a moment---remember what it feels like to love---then give that feeling to the universe---it is so needed-----blessings

Colorado Shakespeare Gardens 8/20/26 by Barbara Carvallo

Colorado Shakespeare Gardens

DEEP===GO DEEP---- BREATHE by Peno Hardesty

and so it was that i walked----further than i have walked for a long time----setting sun cast shadows and i remembered the warning----do not walk out there alone----you are still too weak----was it really only this past march that the fever and illness consumed me----i stand in the tall grasses----the rains have stopped but the ground is still soggy----the cypress stand----i can do this-----darkness falls quick under the canopy----heart pounding i reached out and the mother cypress welcomed me----leaning against her i let my failing eyes adjust to the darkness----ankle deep in mud--chest heaving with each breath---sweat covers me-----the sudden call of the owl--on my knees now in the mud i hear it---the drum the drum----come we close our eyes and feel the drum---our own heartbeat---our heaving chest in perfect rhythm---breathe----home---the mud covers my legs---feel the healing == feel the love----listen === the night creations beckon----come tap our hands against the cypress create the sound---join life----feel again the sensual longing of womanhood--of life---thats it---stand and dance barefoot in the mud---the sweat drips across the heaving chest and the drumbeat of life lives---dance --- sweat----heave---be................................................blessings