Bog and Briar
We've slogged through bog and briar.
To coddle the pond's "tranquility".
This emerald within an emerald
of tender water~ lily harmony.
Indian paintbrush to whisk a memory.
Winged flutes seep gently from maple trees.
Her sweetened songs will tear the eye.
If you let it be-just let it be.
The sun glances off the endless green.
Speckles it with flakes of gold.
Soon shadows of the great unknown,
will chime it's time to head back home.
So, we leave thorned but blissful.
Eaten alive by this humble Eden.
Can we ever coddle happiness again?
Garnish both bog and briar.
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