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| view-image.php by Lynn Greyling |
Peace
Just out of sight
beyond the haze of misty horizon
there, conjure a sweet nest of golden twine for me
oh singing Spirits of the Bend
where I can carry each trouble
lay them down in nascent neglect as they
transform to tinkling trinkets sparkling on a coverlet
I pull over the curl of my unburdened back, floating, a soft cap, on a cerulean sea
sleep slipping swiftly over me - dreams sliding sweetly through me
as I, with somnolent sigh, melt molten into your trusted embrace
