Musings on personal growth, books, motherhood, writing, and more. "Every hour is saved from that eternal silence, something more, a bringer of new things." – Tennyson
How am I entranced by the dew on the grass
and the cool warmth of summer mornings?
Why am I seduced by the sight of a goose
on a misty lake? Without warning
my ill mood’s replaced
by an enchanted grace;
I’m struck like a lover at midnight.
Like a baby to sleep,
the birds sing me to peace,
and all at once, all is right.
I wrote this on a walk/jog the other morning. I actually saw a duck on a misty river, but that didn’t fit and rhyme as well, and hey, I don’t care about being cool—I think rhyme is fun! 🙂