Since I can remember it has always fascinated me how the world turns inside its fragile, drifting, ever-changing hull of clouds. As a child I imagined they were made out of the seeds of dandelions. I thought my fancies clung to their small white feather-light umbrellas that gleamed so magically in the sunlight, and that the wind would carry them softly up and up to join the luminous clouds and travel around the planet. I still think breezy meadows full of ripening dandelions are the most joyous places on earth.
The beach in the background is at the baltic sea, where dandelions still bloom and fly throughout autumn into November.

I saw this boat one evening near the summer palace of a long-dead king who as a prince spent the happiest days of his life there. It was a dreamy landscape in the park and by the lake, a place for reflection, not action. I sat in the young grass and gazed at the boat; there was no lock on it and noone in sight. I could easily have “borrowed” it. But though I love boats and being on the water, I had no urge. My thoughts alone went for that boat ride, and it was enough. The way it lay there peacefully among the whispering reeds, accompanied by the occasional Plop of a jumping fish, pointing quietly and hopefully toward several possibilities and a promising sky, I travelled in it in my mind and joyfully and unseen went everywhere at once.

The Writer
(c) Patricia Koelle

The sunrise is a little slow.
The sky wears furrows on its brow
and tiny breezes briskly cool
stir the quiet tidal pool
left over from a thunderstorm.
In it’s depths some shadows form:
encouragend by the ebb and flow
words out of my fancies grow.
Carried by the brightening light
they hopefully soar into flight
passing through the greyish shrouds
of any weighing, lingering clouds.
And if I still have any say
in what happens on their way
I wish they’ll meet some friendly ears
or, that simply nature hears.

My father, when he was very young, wanted to fly to the moon. He ended up building the rockets that did. He taught me dreams do not need to be fulfilled; the important thing is to keep them in view and work on it.
I studied the stars for a while myself, but fact is, the thin layer of small wonders around us, sandwiched in between the sky and the marvelous moving ball of rock and lava beneath our feet, never cease to amaze me and I have my mind full with just gazing reverently at them. The simple functional fragrant beauty of a flower, and all the invisible genetic information that tells it what it is to be..! It makes me feel tiny and breathless, and yet great to be a part of it all.

This very ancient willow was, in spite of its deep roots, dancing a slow and graceful dance with the evening breeze in the mellow light on one of the last warm summer days. I imagine it is dreaming satisfied dreams of all the countless seasons it has lived through, sipping from the rich marsh it grows in. We are friends; I have stored some of my own dreams in it for safekeeping, and it has waved a few young ideas, cool shadows and old wisdom my way. When autumn comes, it will shed gold for me to tread on, and in winter it will pencil stark and elegant pictures into the leaden sky before it will greet me in spring with small green silent shouts of joy. I am fortunate to have such a companion, who takes all my moods in stride and always offers comfort and a green sort of timeless laughter.

Green Place
(c) Patricia Koelle

A flowing meadow graces
with tale of wind and song of green
one of my dearest places
of all I’ve ever been

Where whispers wander in the night
then in beautiful fragility
growing hopes catch morning light
to awaken possibility

While butterflies still dance
by any flowers’ side
among the silent fragrance
promises ever hide

Here answers always find me
before I knew I sought.
In earth and sky I see
an end to what I fought.

I found a solace for my need
and the eager, gurgling brook
carried to my thoughts the seed
at last – for my new book!

Birthday Wishes
(c) Patricia Koelle

I wish you Happy Birthday, dear
with a joyous sky of blue
a glorious morning, too
and birdsong in your ear.

New luck begins today and here.
May all your hopes come true.
There shall be laughing days for you
and no bad dreams to fear.

May your horizon shine all clear
your world seem young and new.
and when your doubts away all flew
you’ll safely through deep waters steer.

I wish you’ll tell me in a year
that warm winds only blew
and that in everything you do
much love is always near.