Fragrant oil on hands so still
flavors air with heady spice.
Enclosed garden, set apart,
window on paradise,
haven for jaded souls
weary of pomp, vulgar wealth,
hungry for calm, tranquil life
where peace reigns lord over self.
Foretasting bliss of hopes divine,
heavenly appetizer,
this heart-solitude renders
a mind, turned toward God, wiser.
Copyright, July 18, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
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