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Poetic Paradise
As seasons circle
‘Round the moon
In a solstice born of life
Summer drifts into her June
Like poetic paradise
The memories played by ear
Strummed by fingers
Turning red
It is of love
That whispers clear
No better words
The heart has bled
Beyond the distant wild
Drifting seagull in the breeze
Across the morning waves
Into the blue
Born of nature’s child
Nesting in the trees
A peace that comes to save
The heart that’s beating true
There is no beauty
That does you justice
And no desire
To pay the price
Only Heaven far above us
Where spawns
Poetic paradise
Michael 4/23/2024
Copyright ©
Michael Salazar
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