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Footmark Of Nature

My soul tastes the sweet love, still warm on my face.
It's essence, still dwells in a mystic place;
Where the whispers of wind influence my every thought,
under a spell of enrapture, which angels have sought.
It's mastery enchantment worthy only to saints,
while the fairness and splendor, only enriches earth's plaint. As I take witness to: the breezes caressing, of the old
weeping willow,
It granted a flower of life, encompassed in a sea of sway
pillows,
Intermarriage in spirit, as the brook dances with the
sunlight,
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6/22/2021 4:08:05 AM # 1.0.0.632