My mind moves so still

Like fog lifting off a faded memory

Edged in golden light of fondness

So little remains upon that distant hill

Reached only by a laughing child

Or a woman of childish heart

Who still hears the magpie's taunt

Who remembers how to make dandelion gold

While a dozen spirit cows lull me happily bliss

I feel so serene ~ grass between my toes

My special place, you call to me

Once again, and then again

I wonder if the door still remains unlocked

Jana Drake
©copyright 7-22-2002
All rights reserved.