#Day22 #Napowrimo #Nature #blogging101 #poetry
A little Acorn
takes its time
to grow into
a fine oak.
Small, Green, Unobtrusive
Fallen through air
Awaiting its time
in the sun
And when sand falls,
and bells begin chiming
it falls down swift
to a bed of soil
And if it’s lucky
A gardener will toil
tendering and tilling everyday
until the seed makes its own way
And the acorn will grow
to become a new tree
instead of a bird,
or squirrels lunch or tea
Inkdrop is freelance writer with a passion for exploring the intersections between nature, architecture, and artistic expression. With a background in computing, and writing – his pen name harks back to when he played around with rhymes and a fountain pen. Now joined by a selection of created photos from an acquired DSLR camera He shares insights with scribblers of all backgrounds. Outside of visiting museums and exploring the latest in exhibits , he enjoys walking through the countryside in pursuit of the next rainbow.
The Inkwell 
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