A BLESSED GLADE

Sol Finkelman (solthesage@geniepub.com)
Sun, 30 Aug 1998 15:19:04 -0400

A BLESSED GLADE

A glade is nature's remedy,
For any ill that bothers me;
With golden rays filtered by trees,
With ever present gentle breeze.

The waters dancing in the rill,
With beavers showing off their skill;
One squirrel scolds all denizens,
While other squirrels add amens.

A fish will rise to greet the sun,
A skittish deer begins to run;
The gold flecked waters sing to me,
Idyllic is this site for me.

The birds keep flitting in and out,
Their happy chirping leaves no doubt;
A home to all these creature wild,
As all my senses are beguiled.

I close my eyes in reverie,
My mind drifts off so lazily;
Yet intermittently I wake,
Such lovely scene I can't forsake.

The golden sun to horizon creeps,
As one by one each friend now sleeps;
Reluctantly I then must rise,
The lovely moon becomes my prize.

The twilight guides me safely home,
As predators begin to roam;
Thus nature does my soul refresh,
A treatment for my tired flesh.

Sol the Sage

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