The Park - Poem by Rhonda Baker
As I walk through the woods,
I stopped... listened...and just stood.
The air was blowing softly through the trees.
And around the flower's you could hear the bee's.
As I stood there before the steep slopes ledge,
I looked at the Trillium carpet, as it reached the rivers edge.
My soul feels more at home there. It is truly free.
With all of God's creations, I can simply be.
Comments about The Park by Rhonda Baker
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- TelevisionRoald Dahl