My Secret Place
Just beyond the dooryard Where hollyhocks will grow, Birds have come to nest again After winter snow. Belfry chimes are ringing As golden sun shines through Stained glass gothic windows, Amethyst, red and blue. A brook is trickling Its age old theme Reflecting a cobalt sky While feathery cirrus clouds Are slowly drifting by. Humble buttercups, Raise their golden heads In thanks and adoration I, too, am grateful Lord For this place of varied beauty; Of peace and solace And blessed meditation.
|Published in The Longfellow Journal, Volume XII
© Anita Phillips
All rights reserved. No part of this work may be copied or used in any way without written permission from the author.