Medicinalmeadows

THE PLACE WITHIN


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Morning Dew

A majesty of fairies
Fashioned crystal glass
At the tips of each
Fine blade of grass

At the darkest decline
Darning gems so bright
Then directing prisms
To the morning light

They collected their thimbles
And trimmed the thread
But left before dawn
Quietly they fled


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Night Garden

Upon the moonlit grass
My toes do tread
Turf and earth imprinting
On a mossy bed

A tired floret stoops 
A sleepy head
Resting…sequestered…
Nothing to be said

A chill blows from the east
Then ceases… to ground
 Still…serenity
 Folds in…to surround

Is this dreaming … revealing?
Looking to the skies
Into night’s darkness
With a canopy of eyes

Copyright © 2015 Janice Turner Salmon