9am Under An Oak - Poem by Charlene Gray
In this delightful morning,
cozily laid on her back
above was copper laurel of ageing oak,
hosting a spread of dewy grass in the vast field;
its leaves fell like notes from piano
Pianissimo music played from nowhere.
or was it elsewhere?
Look at the angelic sky!
a parade of goddesses dressed in white
smooth flowing golden hair,
creating a phantom of delight
in the fathomless serenity-
the bliss of solitude she’d yearned for so long well,
finally came to dwell.
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