Post by anirbas on Apr 13, 2008 18:22:36 GMT -6
The sun rises with a sibulant whisper.
A susurrus chorus of whispers answering,
as the spring breeze riffles
the tender leaves of the caltalpa;
the ash and elm; the pecan,
mimosa and willow trees.
Buttery light drifts
over the emerald pastureland,
and into the shadowed depths,
of the cleft of the shallow creek;
as a mockingbird lifts
it's scansorial voice,
to the dawn washed Heavens;
and my spirit is reawakened,
within the pure notes,
of it's scandent song.
A susurrus chorus of whispers answering,
as the spring breeze riffles
the tender leaves of the caltalpa;
the ash and elm; the pecan,
mimosa and willow trees.
Buttery light drifts
over the emerald pastureland,
and into the shadowed depths,
of the cleft of the shallow creek;
as a mockingbird lifts
it's scansorial voice,
to the dawn washed Heavens;
and my spirit is reawakened,
within the pure notes,
of it's scandent song.
