Green Haven

Warm mossy haven

A carpet of green

The stories she weaves

With her silver tongue and voice of gold

Heavy raindrops bring their shimmer of cold

Scent of living, blooming

Thick and outlasting, footprints in soil

Weariness settles, imbrued dream

Hills and slopes, tapestried leaves

Limbs loose-tumbled

Sun glints white-gold in the puddles

Plants spill from secret crevices

Summer haze lies upon the city

Forget what binds and what confines

As her lips paint colours you can taste

Breathe the feathers of the willow

And whisper-winds will lift you home