The Lady in the Pond

Gently she steps

Ripples move silently

The quiet rustle of the breeze

Her eyes are closed, her mouth is open, her forehead creased in pain

Down she sinks, down in the water, resting quietly by the shore

The sigh comes slowly, breath released, calmness to her soul

The peace will come though it may tarry, anguish does not quickly go

A smile comes softly as the thoughts come drifting

Oh what sweetness in her soul

Published in: on April 23, 2009 at 12:04 am  Leave a Comment  

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