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Sandra Hoynacki


Pensacola, FL, US

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Country Tales


Sandra Hoynacki

Down the long grey slab we wind our way,as yellow crayon marks silenty tell us what to do. We are spellbound by nature and its beauty. The farm animals seem to be contemplating their next meal while we dwell on our rambling dreams. Tinker toy cabins stand in open spaces shadowed with giant pecan trees that shed their little round gifts for Grandma's pie. Yellow flowers stand waving on the other side of the fish pond as we pass,blowing fragrant messages to the deserted plot of ground lined with marble statues of used-to-be dreamers,now sleeping peacefully on the dreams of tomorrow. Tangled webs of moss blanket the trees along the edge of the cerulean blue lake as the powder-white ducks glide gently toward the unknown. The tractor pauses in the glistening wheat field as the weather-beaten farmer,dressed in his old bib overalls,waves and smiles. We drive on as stick people in the drawing of the smallest hands,holding to our little edge of the chattering world,busy !
in our own bubble as the yellow lines lead us to nature's hidden secret.

Jeweled Red Apple


Sandra Hoynacki

The sky looked of ocean blue,
the day colored like home spun honey.
Frogs singing in near by pond
sounding like a church choir,
off key it was.

Thinking of last nights platinum moon
the smell of sweet gardenias in full bloom,
She slowly arose from the wooden chair
creaking noise that it made,along with
the loud meowing of the old cat,as she
rocked on its pencil thin tail.

With great diffculty she walks
making her way to the jeweled red apples,
hanging like great puffs of cotton candy
just waiting to be eaten.
They are cushioned in lush green leaves,
as the tree stands quietly still,
waiting for- the picking.



Sandra Hoynacki

Alone in a room of beautiful things,
Colors are dancing
The wind blows it seems,
Creating a world
of silence and dreams,
Asking that we follow,
Dark illusions and schemes.

Gentle quietness follows behind,
Overtakes the delusions of our dark minds.
Spirits flow softly
Howl in the night,
Hold to your being,
With all of your might.