Sunday, September 25, 2011

Cove Spring Park

I had no idea this place
could be so peaceful and fair
when the morning sun
with golden-fingers
touches the tender leaves
quivering in their youth.

There is something heard
in the water tumbling
over many stones:
a music, a fair minstrelsy
of laughing joys
and deeper notes
of hidden wonders.

Venturing along
the adjacent path,
the sonorous song
an ever-companion,
finding fungi and fir-trees,
nettles and acorns,
flower-petals and little vines
with tendrils grasping
the roots and fallen branches
of wizened oaks and elms.

Honeysuckle blossoms
are scattered here
on the forest floor
like faeries sleeping,
dreaming such dreams
as faeries dream
when Spring has come.

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