Sunday Poet

Fresh scented pines towering over me Rest and sweep sweet summer noises Buzz and dance with glee Crickets sing forever, a beat so wee Needles of green Running water a poets dream Musty smells, the old church bells chime and lullaby Cool breezes, autumn teases nearly blowing by Ponds of peaceful waters I sit here on these wooden quarters Dragon flies dressed in colors so bright blue- That rest upon the shapely stone, then flew Into a wonderland of lush gardens Burnt amber birds stopped by, I beg your pardon For here I watch nature, as she spreads her carpet so free Of wild twisted branches and escaped flowers with a bee Sunday hours of liberty Dressed in suits and skirts, high society Golden rods that flex across the path And there, chirping, a baby bird takes a bath Lily pads float so gentle and dwell- A poet’s spell, filled with serenity As I breathe in my identity Here on this dreamy summer Sunday