acrylic and collage on paper
8" x 8"
It's a warm and a breezy afternoon here in Boulder. My studio door is open, Maisie is laying in front of it...soaking in fresh air and listening to distant bird songs and dog barks. Seems like winter is a long lost dream now.
After the Winter
Some day, when trees have shed their leaves
And against the morning’s white
The shivering birds beneath the eaves
Have sheltered for the night,
We’ll turn our faces southward, love,
Toward the summer isle
Where bamboos spire the shafted grove
And wide-mouthed orchids smile.
And we will seek the quiet hill
Where towers the cotton tree,
And leaps the laughing crystal rill,
And works the droning bee.
And we will build a cottage there
Beside an open glade,
With black-ribbed blue-bells blowing near,
And ferns that never fade.