Humming birds and bees amongst the flower and trees
Where spirits dwell and ferries tell stories of times to come
Out on the horizon the sun dips low as mist rises from the forest
and the river below
Sounds of running water gurgling from the brook
where trout swim rapidly avoiding the hidden hook
Is it the book that brought them here
from where to there they were before
No fish are caught by the lad asleep atop
a soft log where he had flopped
As he sleeps the birds stop to stare what is it that is lying there
Just a boy with a pole dreaming of his best fishing hole
and ferries speaking of future toll
And still the sun dips below the misty forest forever and again.
Peace and Balance,
John
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