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Stolen Moments

Wolf

By Wolf

2 comments


To the washing line I walk in haste
my footsteps chased by time I cannot waste
The grass is dressed in crystalline white
a token of winters caress during the night
The singing birds chorus the morn
to celebrate the sun reborn
The flowers throw of their stoop
rising to meet the sun they are a lovely group
Now as I peg as fast as I can lest I fall behind
clean white sheets gently waving in the wind
I see the sunlight brush the garden
with little rays of light asking for pardon
Like a flick of a wand a new world emerges
to see such magic now my purpose diverges
For this one moment stuck in time
our destiny our paths entwine
A Currawong swoops gently across the lawn
and just like that breaks the spell of dawn
I now know that it is the little things like these
that help fill our lives with peace
These stolen moments to us are the greatest gift
the brightening of a day and of our burdens a lift
These stolen moments our lives are made up of these

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Comments

 

Hi Wolf, I enjoyed that very much. You are quite a clever poet. I can "taste" what you're saying there, having been in a wintery climate too. Crisp mornings, ice in the paddock and when taking the dogs for a walk after breakfast still the grass crackles underneath your feet in shady spots. Hope your washing got dry!

27 Jul, 2008

 

Thanks Marguerite. :)
It was just one of those times, I'm sure everyone has them. You are out in your yard, in a hurry and then something beautiful happens that makes you appreciate all the hard work you put into your garden and the beauty of nature.

27 Jul, 2008

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