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The sea waves and bows,  then, is gone behind the stage.  The morning show ends.

Recalling the dawn  and the challenges met since.  Afternoon. Time to pause.

A closed gate beckons.  The temptation would be less.  if it was open.

An illusion's charm  relies on our familiarity  with the real thing

Moments to reflect  find us, and hold us, until  they have had their way.

Those feelings that come  each morning and evening  of promises and vows

There is not only  beauty in the end result, but, in the struggle.

His face will be missed  when his limbs break and fall.  But then, new buds shoot.

A chill Spring morning  finds the sea in a warm mood, inviting a quick dip.

Life would be fuller,  grumbled the bike, if only I had  paddles, not pedals.

Evening settles in.  Farm house lights will soon give way  to a brighter moon.