Pawley's Island, April Poem by barbara foster schutz

The sun, with quiet strength, rose yet again
to place a crown of gold
on every head within its realm.

The fire, an ancient friend against the night,
benignly spread a glow
to warm each cheek within its cope.

Countless grains of sand resisted not
our tread, our heedless feet,
to reach a timeless ocean's edge.

Bright voices, uncontained, on clamor bent,
met laughter, unrestrained,
and splashed like water in a stream

until distilled into a reverence shared
for poetry, its grace,
its radiant words, their glistening sound,

with infinite power to reach our souls,
make music of our world,
and let us glimpse a larger sphere,

where love can ride on the backs of stars
across a velvet sky,
and like a comet, leave a trail of light.

April 25,2005