CAL.creations

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CAL.creations

CAL.creationsCAL.creationsCAL.creations

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Photo Gallery

Abbondanza di Limoni


Majolica rests on lace,

bowl brimming with fresh 

limoni, their ever-ripening beauty

summon a sunny patina.

Anticipated consummation;

potential limoncello or pie,

lemonade that refreshes me 

like stardust, or a first kiss.

Autumn Path 


Crisp wind encourages

the crunch of leaves, the cyan

sky October pure, a copper canopy

rustling above us, its Titian 

limbs creating a haven that

shelters a heart-carved 

sanctuary for two, invites 

us to nestle in autumn’s path,

let nature enkindle our spirits.

The Art of the Owens River Valley  


We hover like the late summer

haze of Van Gogh’s “Wheatfield,”

listen to hush of murmurs flushed

from reeds that draw deeply 

of the calm canvas river; it sustains

us like an act of kindness.

We follow a feathered bulrush floating 

past pinyon pines, lifting us into post-

dawn that partially ducks the sun

as my eyes shadow yours, and you 

brush against me, the golden reflections 

a glaze on our smiling faces.



Backyard Grosbeak


Black-headed grosbeak

in bright euonymous tree,

perches on iron butterfly,

pondering seat for me.

Sings a mellow warble,

calling long and fluently

to it’s mate of muted colors,

above mock orange, free. 



California Poppies

As I wander, I think of you & me

recalling there was also

“us”, before we were so far 

apart (and sometimes are) like

poppy fields from the ocean waves,

though I try like the relentless

moon to harmonize the clash of

your crests with my whispered curl,

couple them into an eager sea -

like love - preserve it in iPhoto, vivid

as California poppies posed against blue 

lupine and spring-rain grass that splash

the mountains I meander, bedazzled

by the brilliant orange, parted 

from the foot path, hoping we meet…


Cambria Seascape 


Listen… indigenous sounds, the croon

of gulls, a flute-like thrush - notes from 

memories … imagine the mysterious

lifeforms that ride each wave as they 

spill into the tide pools we enjoy

while we amble the boardwalk 

along Moonstone Beach.

In the wind, Kniphofia flames burst

behind sea grasses, poke

their red hot petals towards the sun; 

mint-blue hydrangeas, fashioned like 

a lady’s lace shawl, turn coquettish faces

towards us, enviously aware that despite 

their beauty, they can not share our freedom.



Photo Gallery

Walker Lake 


We walk sedately into

superlatives of grace,

the peace that abounds 

in this place; summer heat 

shimmers here below

sightings of leisurely geese.

With a luster mirrored 

by primordial salt crystals,

neutral tones, cool ice blue, 

vanilla sand and dusty green

gather like friends; together,

silent stone clusters and our footprints

are held captive in the landscape .

Tranquility 


Placid water

Quietude

Hushed, serene,

Softly hued

Dogwood tree

Fine array,

Draws me into

Length of stay.

Why do Koi

Linger where

Passers-by

Pause and stare?

Would I swim

Close to shore,

Or shyly hide 

‘Neath stone door?

Fantasy


June’s perfume vanished too soon, 

my spirit is still hungry.

Flower carpets roll out like glass

ceilings at Bellagio’s, breaking

my fantasy from another world.

The late sun harms and warms;

voiceless, I sing with the moonrise, 

in the half-light where I belong, 

learn to discern the darkness,

embrace it, and efface it.

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My Red Dancer


You were born to

sing, a young version

of your mother, with

Dad’s soulful eyes 

and exotic beauty that

belied the familiar

heart of reason, true

timbre and extraordinary

loyalty to those whom

you loved; my own Christine

Daae emerged, and the 

voice of an angel swirled

onstage like a whirlwind

filled with song!

Like a Princess 


You danced before

you were born, at

least it seemed so when 

I cradled you in utero,

and questioned

at your birth, who

is this beauty, this miracle

come into my silent 

world, treasured far

beyond celestial

music, beyond iridescent

dreams?


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