By John R. Greenwood
|Bedlam Farm view from afar|
An Open Group gathered in open air at a place called Bedlam Farm today. Familiar faces, new faces, happy faces, faces so recognizable they seem to speak to you without words. Inspiration spread across a gentle farm, led by the sweet and tasteful words of poet Mary Kellogg--Mary a pillar of confidence reading us her poetry in the shade of a generation old apple tree.
|Poet Mary Kellogg and Emma's dog Pearl|
Animals at every corner of the farm watch with content as their provider sings their praises. A glorious afternoon dotted with people from distant places like Baltimore Maryland, and Edina Minnesota. All arrived in a Bedlam Farm pilgrimage to this real place swarming with real people who emanate such a creative aura you could feel it as they pass by.
|Quiet time with dad|
Thank you once again Bedlam Farm and all who wandered her grounds today. You filled up the well once again. My thirst now quenched, my pen filled to the brim.
-Unidentified Farm Occupants-
Soaking in the magic of Bedlam Farm