Brian Crock
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Harvest Heart
Her quiet kingdom, peaceful and serene, where love resides within fields of green… Continue reading
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Evening Without End
The river holds the sun in quiet flame, where day and night in whispered colors blend. Clouds drift, shadows soften all the same, and time forgets the need to ever end… Continue reading
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Restless Winds of March
She bends in the March breeze, her brittle limbs groan with weary ease; dry grass sighs in hushed refrain, as time clings to what remains… Continue reading
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Hope in the Shallows
The February thaw paints gold on reeds and amber shallows, where hope awakens softly beyond winter’s sorrows… Continue reading
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Doorway to Yesterday
Her weathered skin of fading white still guards the secrets of the light. A hollow chest where memories sleep, and ivy-tangled promises keep; she holds her breath in shadow-gray, a doorway to a yesterday… Continue reading
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Twilight’s Touch
Her slender limbs reach, holding the sun’s scarlet blush, night’s first quiet touch… Continue reading
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Season’s Bend
She curves through winter’s bare wood, toward sunlight and hidden green; where February stubbornly stood, spring waits just past the scene… Continue reading
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Winter’s Surrender
She drifts through clouds in rolling silk, to tease the Old Man’s frozen heart; her sunset breath, like honeyed milk, tears his silvered world apart. Upon the lake, her pearly glow seduces ice to liquid fire; he clings to frost… Continue reading
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Gentle Charm
Where the road bends soft and slow, she stands in the afternoon glow. Worn with gentle hometown charm, quiet days in her wooden calm… Continue reading
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Forest’s Fading Light
Deep in the forest, void of sight, a fragile branch holds fading light. Its final leaves in amber glow, catch golden whispers drifting low… Continue reading
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Beyond the Cannon’s Breath
In golden light of evening blaze, the old sentry meets our gaze. From cannon’s breath and bitter fray, to Pataskala’s peaceful quiet way. He catches fire in the evening sun, a soldier’s watch that’s never done. Carved in stone for… Continue reading
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Before the Snow
Her path of gold, a sunlit floor, of autumn days that came before. I walk these woods of rust and light, before the winter turns the morning white… Continue reading
Everything Tells A Story... 