|
In this sing
song land I've come to abide,
I love the smell of silence
so I can hide
from all the lost world .
An echoing place,
where life's swirling patterns are unfurled,
before my drinking haste.
I have adored this land
of mine so tight,
that I can not leave,
the never ending night.
Quite seeps into the scattering jumble,
surrounding me,
peacefully humble.
Dreaming in this land of mine,
allows sweet serenity to
glide along my spine.
Paths stretch out,
winding long lingering ways,
I can not wait to see what they are about.
©1998, Christie
Benson
Writings
Home Back Next
|
