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mari4212Your shoulder leaned against mine
as the road climbed up the mountain
I wondered, have our grounds now touched?
When did I last lie in the grass?
This past summer, it was.
Evenings laying among green,
rolling and crawling with a child
cross grass and clover and dandelions.
Have you that recently played so,
half-way across the world are we alike?
Do you know the same peace it gave me?
Have our grounds now touched?
...Er, yes this is where my brain apparently goes after a long day traveling with choir members in the Philippines.
Contemplating putting this up on the official blog. My poetry always makes me feel more vulnerable than prose, and I'm horrible at telling if it's good or not, which is why it almost never surfaces outside of family, because Mom is obligated to love everything I write.
as the road climbed up the mountain
I wondered, have our grounds now touched?
When did I last lie in the grass?
This past summer, it was.
Evenings laying among green,
rolling and crawling with a child
cross grass and clover and dandelions.
Have you that recently played so,
half-way across the world are we alike?
Do you know the same peace it gave me?
Have our grounds now touched?
...Er, yes this is where my brain apparently goes after a long day traveling with choir members in the Philippines.
Contemplating putting this up on the official blog. My poetry always makes me feel more vulnerable than prose, and I'm horrible at telling if it's good or not, which is why it almost never surfaces outside of family, because Mom is obligated to love everything I write.