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Wren's Garden

She sang a wonderful enchanting melody
 notes that echoed through the motionless trees
 while in a stationary pause for just a moment scant,
 she resumed her song as if it were a prayerful chant;
she glanced up and down, left and right, brown eyes dancing
 then a skip, a hop, a bounce, then slow walking,
 crunching dried leaves beneath her tiny feet
 off to the sides along the cool grassy edge out of the heat;
she gleaned the view of multitudes of flowers renewed
 familiar spring budding, now in full bloom,
 probing roses, peonies, irises in wafting perfume,
 bobbing she rushed to dabble her feet on waterfall stones,
the garden seemed to speak her name 
 calling out to her, drawing her interest and attention
 that soon waned in more pensive somber thoughts,
 scanning fluffed puffed clouds up high and deep blue azure sky;
enough she thought  - if only I could fly
 then in recognition of her place with God's grace
 she stretched her feathered wings and softly fluttered
 taking swift flight up and away
she could not stay
 but would return again 
 the little wren remembered well
 the garden of her birth.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021




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Date: 6/2/2021 7:22:00 AM
DM, All the gardens remembered; speaking a name. Charles would approve of the voice, a time, the place. Thank you for the visit. -Richard
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