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
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