Poetry

The Little Pond (#1375)

The little pond behind the ramshackle shed,
I go there to sit and clear my head,
Across the water’s surface, the clouds float,
Next to the shore’s reflection and the beached wooden boat,
At the pond’s edge, the shadows of trees sway,
In the shimmer and ripples, the world falls away,
The warm breezes comfort like a well-needed hug,
The fern green grasses as thick as a shag rug,
The warmth of the sunlight raining down upon my face,
There’s something sacred about this place,
I go there to sit and clear my head,
The little pond behind the ramshackle shed.

Any Thoughts?

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.