Summer comes, breezes blow
Around a fragrant land
No hardship, no anguish
Oh no.
Birds fly,
Feed their young
Crops grow reaching up
To
The hot, hot sun.
Fawns frolic in meadows
Hidden, lost in woods
Silent except for all the wonders
Filling summer
Beneath a summer sun.
~ Patrice
@ Patrice Clarkson – 2020
Leaves floating down
Falling, resting
Finally
On the ground.
No crash is heard
No weeping cry
Only silent sounds echoing
Throughout the sky.
My soul too
Does fall down
Reaching up, clasping pieces
To soften, the floating down.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2017
 | Patrice on Let Me Hear The Wind Blow |
 | joannerambling on Let Me Hear The Wind Blow |
| Patrice on Feel |
| joannerambling on Feel |
| Patrice on I Have Heard |
This work by Patrice Clarkson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Based on work at patriceclarkson.wordpress.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at PatriceClarkson.com.
Patrice’s Art & Poetry Blog 