A bank of flora, soft and green.
The wind in rushes sings.
A place of beauty; rare, serene,
and zipping, shining dragonfly wings.
The gentle waves beat against the rocks,
gurgling for all they’re worth.
Seemingly their small space they mock,
carving new rivulets in the earth.
I sit and my gaze drifts to yonder shore;
a wide, glass-like expanse in between.
My mind races with thoughts of lore,
rehearsed when the earth was but a teen.
A loon with an appearance of distiction
bobs upon the gentle, slipping waves.
My thoughts cry “Far be ye from extinction”
for your call is one every being craves.
A fish swims up, colorful scales shim’ring.
Ripples hurry away as it moves.
So close to the bank, I see eyes glim’ring
as it forages amongst the stones and grooves.
As I lie back on the peaceful bank,
I watch the geese fly overhead.
To think this earth was once quite blank
before our Creator “It is good.” He said.
The Autumn winds blow colder now.
The sunset sets the trees afire;
red and orange, shine a blazing show
and I revel in my God’s great empire.
Soon the glistening lake will turn to ice,
and my feathered friends be gone.
But the peace will remain just as nice
as the wildlife silently lives on.
For though many birds fly southward;
mammals and reptiles slumber sweetly –
there are still places to be explored;
sketches and field notes kept up neatly.
Come Spring, greenness and life shall return;
the earth always in cyclical balance.
This dead, white, silent Winter adjourn,
and the new season bound forth with radience.
I, here at the lakeside will always stay;
for here is my life, my joy, my muse.
And I can never be drawn away
from the place my heart and soul did choose.
– Mara Clipner