Daydreams and Imaginations
PAGE 4
poetry by
Julia Ann Ferguson (c) 1997 - 2001 All Rights Reserved
I hope you enjoy my private collection
of thoughts and feelings.
Please respect my wishes to not reproduce any portion of
my work without my written permission. Thank you!
PAGE 4 UPDATED ~ DECEMBER 20, 1997
Clouds
Motionless
Silent
Slowly floating over the massive mountains.
The sun peeking through nature's curtains.
Making an encore now and then.
~ January 19, 1981 ~
Written while driving to high school in
Anaheim, California
and watching the clouds through the Canyon hills.
Nature's Ways
Cool waters
Silent clouds
Distilled moments
Drifting sun
Floating rocks
Running trees
All moving with the breeze.
~ January 6th, 1981~
Written when I apparently was on a roll
with nature or the weather
cuz here comes another one from this same timeframe.
Another Cold Morning
Biting at my fingertips
Frost setting on my lips
Exhaling air to be seen
Like the smoke of a dragon
Morning dew, cold as ice.
Wouldn't a warm fire be nice!
~ February 4, 1981~
Written after arriving to my creative writing class when I was 16 and obviously cold.
The Trusting Gardener
I walked into my garden
And there I found a seed
It called to me I thought
It begged to be planted
I picked my favorite pot
I found the richest soil
I nurtured it everyday
I watched it sprout
I tended to the weeds
I protected it from harm and harsh weather
As it grew, it danced in the sunlight
And warmed my heart with its beauty
I was glad to dedicate so much effort to its maintenance and growth
For I knew the rewards would be great
I didn't mind when its seeds spread to the other pots and planters
I didn't notice it start to climb the trees
I didn't hear it convince the birds to stop singing
Or the butterflies to go away
Months later on my daily visit to my garden
I noticed the pots and planters were brown and barren
The ground was hard and cold
And every way I turned my head
I saw the green turn goldish red on the leaves I'd lovingly sown
And then the rash came over me
The blotches on my soul
The plant I had tended so carefully...
Was Poison Oak you know!
~ October 31, 1997~
Written to describe what I felt like
after working so hard to share
my experience, strength and hope with someone only to find
out they were literally using me to play a game with others
A Symphony with Nature's Fingers
Listen to the leaves
Swaying to the Songs of Nature
Dancing lightly on their branches
Whistling whispers in the Wind
Stillness hushes momentarily
'Til a breeze tickles a laugh
Then slowly louder grows the rustle
Nature's fingers talking back
Hear them singing hymns to heaven
Lullabies to baby birds
Majestic music from trees and bushes
Taking cues from Mother Earth
Each one has a life of glory
Singing songs full of mirth
Each one tells a separate story
Of life and breath and death and birth
Worn as clothing, cast as jewelry
Hung above the door and hearth
Listen to the leaves of Nature
Smell their beauty, praise their worth
~ September 4, 1997~
I wrote this poem over a 2 month period.
The view of the 25+ different trees
and bushes from my window while I played on my computer was my inspiration
