Robert

Robert (@rob_of_gr)

- Nature - Poetry - Nikon D3300

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Stories

Highlights

"Tahquamenon Tuesday"๐Ÿ˜ I had the privilege of going to the Upper Peninsula, this past weekend with the wonderful @kellyshogren and spend a short, but beautiful stay with her and her family. Unfortunately the autumn colors weren't peaking yet, but still, it was a very beautiful atmosphere. 
Thanks to all of you who make this a wonderful place to socialize and share my perspectives with you.
I am really happy to be back! 
I am currently in the process of starting a Facebook business page, I call "Feeding your Soul" photography (thank you Kelly for the idea๐Ÿ˜˜)
Unfortunately, at this time, I am beyond busy and can't quite get to finishing it.
But I'm hoping to in the next month or so.
In the meantime, I do have a personal Facebook page up, under Robert Butterson.
I'm not on there very much, but if you have a Facebook page, hit me up! I would love to be your friend on there๐Ÿ˜Š
I hope you all had an amazing day todayโค

"Tahquamenon Tuesday"๐Ÿ˜ I had the privilege of going to the Upper Peninsula, this past weekend with the wonderful @kellyshogren and spend a short, but beautiful stay with her and her family. Unfortunately the autumn colors weren't peaking yet, but still, it was a very beautiful atmosphere. Thanks to all of you who make this a wonderful place to socialize and share my perspectives with you. I am really happy to be back! I am currently in the process of starting a Facebook business page, I call "Feeding your Soul" photography (thank you Kelly for the idea๐Ÿ˜˜) Unfortunately, at this time, I am beyond busy and can't quite get to finishing it. But I'm hoping to in the next month or so. In the meantime, I do have a personal Facebook page up, under Robert Butterson. I'm not on there very much, but if you have a Facebook page, hit me up! I would love to be your friend on there๐Ÿ˜Š I hope you all had an amazing day todayโค

From the unknown. . . 
That from which we are born.
Interestingly enough,
Into the unknown we go,
When it's time to perish as well. . . 
But in the between is something unique.
The unknown is, a place we learn to take paths,
Sometimes good, sometimes not so great.
But making the choice is what we live for. . . 
Making mistakes is how we learn to live.
How we breathe?
All depends on how we speak.
Do we live the good life,
Or travel down the bad?
Either way you look at it,
It always begins, 
Down the unknown path. . .

From the unknown. . . That from which we are born. Interestingly enough, Into the unknown we go, When it's time to perish as well. . . But in the between is something unique. The unknown is, a place we learn to take paths, Sometimes good, sometimes not so great. But making the choice is what we live for. . . Making mistakes is how we learn to live. How we breathe? All depends on how we speak. Do we live the good life, Or travel down the bad? Either way you look at it, It always begins, Down the unknown path. . .

It was a short day. . . 
I could feel the wind nestled between my toes,
Like yesterday and the day before,
And so on and so fourth.
The ducks and geese will begin their descent,
As the sun warms their feathers,
And the wind sends a message to all their friends.
A short day,
But one gathered in warmth of the earth's fire.
The crisp of the air,
The heartbeat of life,
Filling the souls desire the feeling of being satisfied. . .
It was a short day. . . 
But one for the books,
As the wind nestled between my toes.

It was a short day. . . I could feel the wind nestled between my toes, Like yesterday and the day before, And so on and so fourth. The ducks and geese will begin their descent, As the sun warms their feathers, And the wind sends a message to all their friends. A short day, But one gathered in warmth of the earth's fire. The crisp of the air, The heartbeat of life, Filling the souls desire the feeling of being satisfied. . . It was a short day. . . But one for the books, As the wind nestled between my toes.

The Lily sat upon it's pad,
Not daydreaming,
Only reflecting on the beauty of the life it has.
Soaking up sun rays,
Listening to the sound of the song birds parade,
All while resting on the calmness of the lakes glass.
Reacting to no violence,
No sound of distraught.
For a Lily knows not these things,
Only the beauty and color of which life creates.
A beauty that rests deep in the souls of the worst of us,
Waiting to escape,
Waiting to be like the Lily on the pad,
Down by the glass like lake. . .

The Lily sat upon it's pad, Not daydreaming, Only reflecting on the beauty of the life it has. Soaking up sun rays, Listening to the sound of the song birds parade, All while resting on the calmness of the lakes glass. Reacting to no violence, No sound of distraught. For a Lily knows not these things, Only the beauty and color of which life creates. A beauty that rests deep in the souls of the worst of us, Waiting to escape, Waiting to be like the Lily on the pad, Down by the glass like lake. . .

Though the years had whittled him to nothing more than a heart beat and a breath of stale air.
He didn't given up hope,
That his Sunshine was out there. . .
Somewhere.
Time was not on his side,
But she was. . . 
And when he saw her,
He realized,
Life had only just begun.
She was his sunshine,
Everything else faded into the night.
And when he kissed her lips,
Heaven bent,
And he lost his breathe.
Nothing more can be said,
For he found his light. . .
He had found his Sunshine. . .

Though the years had whittled him to nothing more than a heart beat and a breath of stale air. He didn't given up hope, That his Sunshine was out there. . . Somewhere. Time was not on his side, But she was. . . And when he saw her, He realized, Life had only just begun. She was his sunshine, Everything else faded into the night. And when he kissed her lips, Heaven bent, And he lost his breathe. Nothing more can be said, For he found his light. . . He had found his Sunshine. . .

Hello๐Ÿ‘‹
I want to start by apologizing for being rude and disappearing without saying a word.
Truth is, when I post pictures on here and write poems that some of you find deep meaning and appreciate,
I feel empty inside.
I don't have a feeling of hope or love and it can be exhausting and frustrating. I have forgotten the one thing that I need before I can help others. . . and that's to love myself.
With that being said, I am taking 2019 off from social media to rediscover myself and will return sometime in 2020.
Since being on Instagram, I have had the honor to interact with some amazing people and made some great friends.
In the time I'm gone, I'm going to miss all of you who have taken the time to reach out to me and appreciate my work.
Your likes and comments are what makes this fun. You guys are all so awesome and I always wish nothing but the best for you guys and gals.
I'll leave you with one last poem in the comments that I hope you enjoy.
Make 2019 your own!! Conquer your fears and discover something new about yourself. . .that's where I'll be. . .โค

Hello๐Ÿ‘‹ I want to start by apologizing for being rude and disappearing without saying a word. Truth is, when I post pictures on here and write poems that some of you find deep meaning and appreciate, I feel empty inside. I don't have a feeling of hope or love and it can be exhausting and frustrating. I have forgotten the one thing that I need before I can help others. . . and that's to love myself. With that being said, I am taking 2019 off from social media to rediscover myself and will return sometime in 2020. Since being on Instagram, I have had the honor to interact with some amazing people and made some great friends. In the time I'm gone, I'm going to miss all of you who have taken the time to reach out to me and appreciate my work. Your likes and comments are what makes this fun. You guys are all so awesome and I always wish nothing but the best for you guys and gals. I'll leave you with one last poem in the comments that I hope you enjoy. Make 2019 your own!! Conquer your fears and discover something new about yourself. . .that's where I'll be. . .โค

The eye you see,
Is the eye that heals.
It's lashes branch out,
so you may tie a swing,
And keep your head in the clouds.
So when a bird sings,
You can hear the melody,
Even if the melody is miles away.
The eye is bright,
It's sight foresees a future,
A future of your choice,
To whatever your heart's desire.
However you chose,
The choice is always yours.
For the eye can only foresee,
Whatever future you chose to believe.

The eye you see, Is the eye that heals. It's lashes branch out, so you may tie a swing, And keep your head in the clouds. So when a bird sings, You can hear the melody, Even if the melody is miles away. The eye is bright, It's sight foresees a future, A future of your choice, To whatever your heart's desire. However you chose, The choice is always yours. For the eye can only foresee, Whatever future you chose to believe.

The ship set sail,
Long before the storm rolled in.
Creating a darkness, 
With little light,
Seeping through,
Across the land.
And the waves crashed across the shore,
Creating a mighty roar of chaos,
Yet the beauty of the scene,
Never seems to find itself lost.
That's because even with bedlam,
Life marches on.
And with life,
There is always light,
To shine on the beauty of this world.

The ship set sail, Long before the storm rolled in. Creating a darkness, With little light, Seeping through, Across the land. And the waves crashed across the shore, Creating a mighty roar of chaos, Yet the beauty of the scene, Never seems to find itself lost. That's because even with bedlam, Life marches on. And with life, There is always light, To shine on the beauty of this world.

The beauty of life starts from the inside,
Travels to the center of your world,
Searching for a way out.
To walk into the light,
Glowing with a fascination,
Of everything in which it surrounds.
But the route is not easy,
And often very hard.
Because the glowing can only be seen,
When you look into a mirror,
Into your eyes,
And grasp the meaning of your outer beauty.
They are all in one,
Sparkling with excitement,
If only you just let them.
Nobody from under the sun can say different,
Because your outer beauty is controlled by your inner.
And your inner beauty is only magical,
If you let it be allowed.

The beauty of life starts from the inside, Travels to the center of your world, Searching for a way out. To walk into the light, Glowing with a fascination, Of everything in which it surrounds. But the route is not easy, And often very hard. Because the glowing can only be seen, When you look into a mirror, Into your eyes, And grasp the meaning of your outer beauty. They are all in one, Sparkling with excitement, If only you just let them. Nobody from under the sun can say different, Because your outer beauty is controlled by your inner. And your inner beauty is only magical, If you let it be allowed.

Damn ghost photo bombed my shot on the Washington monument!!. . . ๐Ÿค”. . . or should I say. . . Photon bombed it๐Ÿ˜€๐Ÿค“๐Ÿ˜œ
Have a fantastic weekend, everyone!!๐Ÿ˜Š๐Ÿ‘‹โœŒ

Damn ghost photo bombed my shot on the Washington monument!!. . . ๐Ÿค”. . . or should I say. . . Photon bombed it๐Ÿ˜€๐Ÿค“๐Ÿ˜œ Have a fantastic weekend, everyone!!๐Ÿ˜Š๐Ÿ‘‹โœŒ

The future is now,
Not yesterday.
Focus on the past,
And the past will be all you have.
Today is when you make your change.
Today is when the sun shines on you,
Regardless if the sky is grey,
Or clouds stand in your way.
There is beauty in your stance,
Embrace it,
Love it,
Your future is built in the palm of your hands.

The future is now, Not yesterday. Focus on the past, And the past will be all you have. Today is when you make your change. Today is when the sun shines on you, Regardless if the sky is grey, Or clouds stand in your way. There is beauty in your stance, Embrace it, Love it, Your future is built in the palm of your hands.

The trees. . . 
The trees that spring the leaves.
That wash the body, soul, and mind,
They do not take,
But give us everything.
We are nothing without the trees,
Singing a tune deaf to the ear,
Breathing air toxic to the lungs to which we carry through the years.
I do not care the colors,
that produce their life.
Nor would I bother to ask,
How strong be the branch,
That keeps this world from black and white.
All we ask is to sit,
Underneath their pedestal.
While we search this world for answers,
And keep hope the world still holds a prayer.
The trees. . .
The trees that keep our beliefs.
So that one day they shade us not of our sun,
But of the pain of our thoughts.
And listen to our souls,
As we bathe in the glory,
Of the melody that is their song.

The trees. . . The trees that spring the leaves. That wash the body, soul, and mind, They do not take, But give us everything. We are nothing without the trees, Singing a tune deaf to the ear, Breathing air toxic to the lungs to which we carry through the years. I do not care the colors, that produce their life. Nor would I bother to ask, How strong be the branch, That keeps this world from black and white. All we ask is to sit, Underneath their pedestal. While we search this world for answers, And keep hope the world still holds a prayer. The trees. . . The trees that keep our beliefs. So that one day they shade us not of our sun, But of the pain of our thoughts. And listen to our souls, As we bathe in the glory, Of the melody that is their song.

The day the earth stood still,
Was the day I missed you.
The day I walked,
Without having a way.
The day the blood in my veins,
Reversed from my heart,
And cried in the form of a Fall's day.
But your voice always carries on,
Sending love to me,
Making me feel special and strong.
And I'll cross many of bridges in life
Some very big,
Some very small.
They will represent another step I take,
In a direction of finding who I am,
No matter the size or weight.
And with you as my guide,
I will strive to stop every minute,
to let the fresh air take me in.
To only see,
I've crossed half the bridge,
By myself,
Making you smile at the person you've created.
Not even realizing,
You've created another smile,
A smile in me.
I can stand halfway in any direction,
Because you have taught me,
In life,
The day's come in many shapes and sizes,
But there is only one me.
And in me,
Is you.
And forever, 
I can stand on life's bridge,
Holding your hand,
Holding the air in the wind.

The day the earth stood still, Was the day I missed you. The day I walked, Without having a way. The day the blood in my veins, Reversed from my heart, And cried in the form of a Fall's day. But your voice always carries on, Sending love to me, Making me feel special and strong. And I'll cross many of bridges in life Some very big, Some very small. They will represent another step I take, In a direction of finding who I am, No matter the size or weight. And with you as my guide, I will strive to stop every minute, to let the fresh air take me in. To only see, I've crossed half the bridge, By myself, Making you smile at the person you've created. Not even realizing, You've created another smile, A smile in me. I can stand halfway in any direction, Because you have taught me, In life, The day's come in many shapes and sizes, But there is only one me. And in me, Is you. And forever, I can stand on life's bridge, Holding your hand, Holding the air in the wind.

I see you up there, Monday. . . You don't have to stair at me. . .๐Ÿคฆโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ˜

I see you up there, Monday. . . You don't have to stair at me. . .๐Ÿคฆโ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿ˜

The definition of a friend,
Is to hold in this life now and in the next.
A friend will be there,
Holding your hand,
If your stuck or lost,
Broken inside and out.
Now, not later or when.
Sending love from deep within their heart.
That is what life is about,
That is undeniably a true friend.

The definition of a friend, Is to hold in this life now and in the next. A friend will be there, Holding your hand, If your stuck or lost, Broken inside and out. Now, not later or when. Sending love from deep within their heart. That is what life is about, That is undeniably a true friend.

The magic of the autumn season,
Isn't the Colors to which sprout from tree to limb.
It is the feeling inside the body,
Awaking the warmth from our soul.
A happiness controlled by thoughts,
Not sound.
A release from what is real,
To the magic of our surroundings.
It's like nature shouting at the top of it's lungs,
Talking through the air,
Not looking for a conversation,
But just to let you know,
It is there.
an experience that leaves a tremble through our veins,
Making our heart dance with a beat of wonder.
A beat of color,
Red like a river of wine.
Drink and be found,
Let the magic flow from our hearts,
To the sound of nature's soul.

The magic of the autumn season, Isn't the Colors to which sprout from tree to limb. It is the feeling inside the body, Awaking the warmth from our soul. A happiness controlled by thoughts, Not sound. A release from what is real, To the magic of our surroundings. It's like nature shouting at the top of it's lungs, Talking through the air, Not looking for a conversation, But just to let you know, It is there. an experience that leaves a tremble through our veins, Making our heart dance with a beat of wonder. A beat of color, Red like a river of wine. Drink and be found, Let the magic flow from our hearts, To the sound of nature's soul.

And the train keeps a rollin'๐Ÿ˜
Happy Sunday!!๐Ÿ‘‹โœŒ

And the train keeps a rollin'๐Ÿ˜ Happy Sunday!!๐Ÿ‘‹โœŒ

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