Garden of Dreams

By skinner_jennifer
- 2324 reads
Understanding how undemanding
rugged roads we traveled in youth,
those bracing winds
carried us down
to the awe-inspiring ocean,
distant fields where woolly fleeces
would graze on ravaged green;
wave upon wave smashing rocks,
as scanning horizon
we'd cross our lucid dream.
But! Now I'm older,
my space and time...a contrasting sublime;
sitting here in my garden of dreams,
filled with petaled
Columbine,
Carpet of wild flowers
cascading down,
while roses climb to the sky
to catch those
golden rays up high,
In rustling of trees
I hear chanting of birds...
a carousel of sound,
as I close my eyes their call embraces me,
for one brief moment I am free.
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Comments
Some transporting imagery,
Some transporting imagery, Jenny, fresh and a sense of the wild.
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I enjoyed the contrast
I enjoyed the contrast between the feeling of wild country and coast rambling, and the pleasure at hand to embrace in a garden. Rhiannon
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Hello there, Jenny...a
Hello there, Jenny...a beautiful poem for a beautiful day...at least it has been here.
This afternoon as I walked up the hill in my garden and I was joined by a crowd of of very noisy cockerels that live next door. I think they were having a cock-a-doodle-doo contest as to which of them could crow the loudest. They made me smile...
as did your poem. You painted a lovely picture with your words...no need for that more than adept paintbrush and easel of yours on this occasion
Have a peaceful evening, Jenny.
Tina
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Hi Jenny
Hi Jenny
You paint a very vivid picture of both your childhood, and your current state. I like your choice of words.
Jean
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