“Our brook” is just a trickle in the summer
“Peace Discovered”
by Patricia Cummings
A bench of granite sits and waits
and the eager woman does not hesitate.
Together, they listen to the brook below,
and ponder how fast seasons come and go.
The stream it gurgles, spits and sputters;
This place on earth is like no other.
Goldenrod, in the breeze, is swaying;
Its roots cling tight; it won’t be straying.
A moment’s peace in the heat of day
Time away from the relentless fray.
A wish that summer could always stay;
and a prayer for peace, for just today.
The sound of a Bluejay, the voice of a child,
reminders of Nature, both carefree and wild.
The trees stand witness to this space,
A quiet spot, to find one’s place.
Patricia Cummings, pat at quiltersmuse dot com
Quilter’s Muse Publications
Tags: an original poem
