Come See Me

Come see me. I'm just at the end of the dirt lane. Just pass the flourishing sycamore and maple trees. Just pass the vast meadow where crickets play and butterflies probe for nectar. Come see me. I'm just at the end of the dirt lane. Just a few kilometers from me is a blue water pond that is a seasonal home for a family of trumpeter swans. Come see me. I'm just at the end of the dirt lane. Where I'm surrounded by a rustic gothic fence. And at my feet are glorious variegated annuals and perennials. Come see me. I'm just at the end of the dirt lane. Come see me in my brilliance where the sun is pouring its heavenly beams upon my ivory body. Come and see how many seasons has embraced me. Let your eyes be gifted with the sight of my golden thatched crown, where larks and wren gently nestle. Come see me. I'm just at the end of the dirt lane. Come inside me. Enjoy my warmth. Explore me and all my charm. Come see me. I'm just at the end of the dirt lane. Come rest your weight on the antique rocker in front of the Rumford fireplace. Enjoy the port that is half filled inside a lead crystal decanter. Come see me. I'm just at the end of the dirt lane. You will, with great contentment bury yourself in the serenity, and pity many in the world who isn't you. Come see me. I'm just at the end of the dirt lane. Come and listen to the enchanting sounds of my memories. Come see me. I'm just at the end of the dirt lane. Come and hold in perfection the moments you share with me. copyright Looking At The Light From The Bottom Of The Lake. Inspired by a picture. 2017