Place

Just a reminder...

I know of a little place

Where moss grows in abundance

And a bench sits sprucely

Atop the grass and silver dew.

 

I meet you there often,

Even at times when spring

Loses its verdurous coat

And wind mourns her exile.  

 

I know of a secret lake

And an old wooden bench

Beneath which leaves gather

To decorate simplicity.

 

Kisses huddle above earth

Warmed by the art of lips.

Not a soul even knows 

Our spirits mingle there.

 

I know of some words

Upon rain-washed timber

That fall off when I leave.

Those I’ll take with me.

 

Reviews

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

"I know of some words
Upon rain-washed timber
That fall off when I leave.
Those I'll take with me."

These words are so haunting that the wash becomes a wave, inundating the soul with sadness and resonating far beyond the falling of the rain.

Your words always evoke beauty, even when draped in sadness.

[poet2angels (lynda)]

Beautiful words ...flows like a river
almost haunting until the end....Just amazing this is

Lynda

[emmajoy]

' Kisses huddle above earth / Warmed by the art of lips.' .. perfectly put.

I don't doubt you, your past and present store all kinds of 'little places', places you can re-visit in your reveries and dreams.

This poem has a purr. Thank you for sharing.