Reading my Books
Reading my books under sky obsessed trees,
Lost in the stories on grass tickled knees,
Dreaming the characters into display,
Here in the hum of the bees.
Tables and chairs lying strewn on the ground,
Distant cicadas the ambient sound,
Nudging my glasses as stories unwind,
Silent adventures abound.
Slithering shadows are dancing anew,
Leaves in gyration as sunlight falls through,
Praising the beauteous span of the day,
Covered in blankets of blue.
Authors and poets they speak to my soul,
Severed from time and the race for control,
Giving myself to the words like a bride,
Here on my sacrosanct knoll.
Slowly reclining and staring away,
Green as my garment in whispered array,
Pondering love and its limitless tide,
Cool on this mattress of clay.
ADL
adamdaniel 