The Artist

Her brush is but a shovel,
Her canvas a patch of dirt,
Her paints consist of the flowers and ferns that God has placed upon this Earth.
Her artwork is ever changing as the seasons come and go,
Her art is always beautiful even when sprinkled with snow
Her daughter is a musician,
her son has a talent for sketch,
Her husband is a jack of all trades and has passed on all of his gifts.
But, she does not realize her talent to create beauty every day,
Her garden is a masterpiece that is always on display.
My mother is an artist
My mother is my friend
My mother is a Survivor,
And I cherish her to no end.

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Happy Mother’s Day Mom

Bonnie Jean Higgins (Carroll) 2002

lily

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Your best ?

You are worth your best.

I posted that on Facebook today and it sounds so simple but is it? Your best what?

You are worth your best smile, best attitude, best compassion, best effort, best love, best care, best health, best commitment, best fight, best strength, best mood, best forgiveness, best investment; your best you 🖤

Let that sink in and bloom 🌸

Green Upon Green

Green upon green
Water drenched trees
Under a canopy I write
Comforted by the sounds of twilight

Green turns to gray
As the day starts to fade
The colors go home
When the Moon takes the throne

Still I sit here and write
A poets delight
Under a canopy of trees
Touched by a gentle spring breeze

Gray turns to blue
As the stars come in view
I must go back home
To my fortress of stone

Green upon green
My eyes you have seen
My voice you have heard
My words you now read

Bonnie Jean Higgins
©March 12, 2013
~ Inspired by a Willow Tree after a Rainstorm ~

 

Willow

Willow

The Poet

~ The Poet ~

Sitting on a dock in the middle of the lake
Long hair curling in the mist
Stars falling to Earth
Moonlight in her eyes
In her hand rests a book
Crickets chirp and chime
As she writes her lines
She is in her own make-believe world
Wind dances in her hair
There are Castle’s in her stare
The words she writes
Release her soul

Bonnie Jean Higgins
02-13-2013

This poem is about my poetry spot at Lake Montclair

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Skinned Knees (first 2013 poem)

~ Skinned Knees ~

She misses her once upon a time
Even if she never knew it was there
Ideas of happiness
Ideas of forever
Girlhood dreams
She is grown now
Although she just skinned her knee
And a wistful look
Engulfs her big green eyes

©Bonnie Jean Higgins
February 1, 2013

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The Dreamscape Poetess

The Dreamscape Poetess