
A place of texture
The river’s fallen rain
The moss cover stones
Torrents, in the fast lane
The trees tempered bark
The leaves fallen to ground
The every morning dew
The grass grown all around
The rocks on the banks
That glisten smooth in sun
That shines in the waters
Until the moon beam comes
Weekly Writing Challenge: Flash Fiction
Path to a Dream
The paths lead to high rockery beds
Under azalea trees of pink pompom heads
The higher the paths the clearer the views
Of rolling mountains and snow tops too
Walk downward through daffodils, snowdrops on display
The lower paths yield to colours that pave the way
In a carpet of yellow, a half-moon seat
Under trees and patterns a glorious treat
The steps direct to mountains and skylines of blue
The windy path, to a fountain of quiet will do
With a field and a gate that entices the feet
To a hidden tarn in the summer heat
With tall grasses, a stillness, reflections, so calm,
And swans watch as the sun beams down to charm
An abandoned shack once had a boat
That glided the water and slowly did float
Where you and I could have slept the night
The full moon would have glistened and beamed so bright
Wondrous sky that gleams
With colours that beam
Of pink tourmalines
To cleanse round the soul
Put stresses on hold
Comfort you whole
Drink in evening array
As earth reflects away
A gift to display
To feast the day long
Open wide my heart
To ethereal song
Eyes engage to see
The light inside the dawn
The possibility
Beam of true colours
The gateway to heaven
Is found here in others
The path seems so real
The garden on earth, here,
Today, in how I feel
Only now I do tell
Mind, printing paradise
Carries peace where I dwell