Shannon Thompson Poems

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.
...

With unreputable awe, I take witness to a lulled abounding force,
As subtle arousing whispers sweep through the effervescent valley;
Dried leaves then flutter, in sunlight while trees bow to this
glorious resurrection;
...