Sitting on the edge
of a small brook,
Dangling my feet in the cooling waters,
I bask in the warmth of the morning sun,
absorbing,
The beauty of God’s world, everywhere I look,
Little butterflies flutter from flower to
flower,
Drinking nectar from the heart of each blossom,
Crickets crawl among the blades of grass,
Frogs sit lazily upon the lily pads for hours,
Birds soar high into the cloudless sky,
Then swoop into the water to catch a fish,
Carrying it to their nest to feed,
Chicks, which have not yet learned to fly.
The trees sway in the gentle winds,
As the breeze caresses my skin and,
Blows my hair swirling about my face,
I enjoy the cooling comfort the zephyr sends.
Lost in the tranquility of this secret site,
I hesitate to return to the vigor of the,
World I escaped from for a little while,
Alas, I must rejoin the world of artificial
light.
I will carry with me memories,
That can’t be wiped away by,
The hubbub of normal life, I will recall,
The peacefulness in the brook among the trees.
Gayle Davis
January 29, 2002
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