Under Paris Skies

"Stranger, beware
there's love in the air
under Paris skies..."

These are the words that romantically played in my mind as Paris unfolded before me.  Would I fall in love with Paris in springtime?

I fell in love ! Who wouldn't...the gardens were all abloom and so I gave my heart willingly.

My photographs of Paris included many shots taken as we explored the streets and the Seine riverside on our own, without a guide. We passed some lovely public gardens which we didn't know the names of. Then there were the pretty flower shops with their roses on display outside the shops. These are my charming encounters with French gardens and flowers which my photographs serve to remind me of...

Paris in Springtime

Accidental

a series of accidents

one event leading to another

one word sparks an action

then reaction leads one on a tangent

life's best left to its own directions

for didn't it lead me here to you?

a gathering of momentum

in the absence of intention

devoid of planning or conscious contrivance

did i know we would meet in spring

in a place filled with new beginnings

stirring new and joyous feelings?

the air seems crispier than it should be

the atmosphere charged with electricity

the colours are brighter than they would be

in a place where I'm not destined to be

isn't this a time when it is perfect for me

to fall tumbling in love with you...

Paris; my enchanting, sentimental indulgence !

Linking to:
Share the Joy Thursday
Fertilizer Friday
Macro Friday
Weekend Flowers
Macro Flowers Saturday
Today's Flowers
Macro Monday
Mosaic Monday

W4W
Poets Rally

The Heart of the Flower

What's smiling at me from my garden as I walk around in the morning sun, snapping shot after shot? Oh, nothing much...just a few fresh-faced daisies, a bee on my little blue water-lily, some trumpet flowers and a host of giggling blue plumbago. Let's look into their hearts to see what's inside.

Passion

in the heart of the brilliant flower

the psyche awaits the awakening

never visible to the ones

who merely look but do not see

in some the heart is a glowing ember

hot, smouldering, on the brink

of igniting into flames

when the senses are set free

in others the heart is hidden forever

vulnerable, but rhythmically throbbing 

the depth of feeling lies hidden within

waiting for its discovery

the giving heart... there's none that's purer

nectar-laden for the offering

altruistic soul with a passion

to serve honey to the thirsty bee

Rosie Gan (August 2011)

for submission to Poetry Potluck  #48

Linking to:
Fertilizer Friday
Macro Friday
Macro Flowers Saturday
Poetry Potluck
Weekend Flowers