A beautiful day --
The smell of fresh mown grass
tickles my nostrils.
The wind gently rustles the leaves
above my head.
I saw a caterpillar creeping along a flower box,
Making his way under an avenue of petunias.
A bird soars majestically through the sky
upon conflicting winds.
A tendril of scent whispers of cornfields in summertime
Like country-fresh sweetness, ripe to bursting
under warm sunlight.
The wind catches the laughter of a child
and places that smile gently upon my lips
where it worms its way into my heart and lodges.
A ladybug alights upon the back of my hand
as I sit still in the wonder of God's creations
and rested, she spreads her speckled wings
to fly on.
I think she smiled at me before she left.
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, \ Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit \ Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, \ Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. ~~71, Rubainat of Omar Khannam
Wednesday, August 01, 1990
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