Zephyr
We walk through the meadow,
In the twilight shadow,
Along nature's way,
We'd see Hope’s ray.
A gentle breeze blows,
It sweeps across the meadow rows,
It still the tempest
that troubles like a pest.
It brings us to a room,
In the ambience of nature's bloom,
Where gloom does not spread its tentacles,
We stand on zen pinnacles.
Nature’s gentle breeze,
No mortal hands can seize,
A treasured gift,
To the souls that it trestles and lift.
May 15, 2023.
Copyright © Thompson Emate | Year Posted 2023
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