like a tree upon the waters
whose shadow is cast before the reeds
the damp sod hardens into cool, red clay beneath its roots
and moss, settling upon the wise tree bark
as though an armor—
I stand with the cattails;
amongst the blue grass, the dandelions, the whistling ferns
winds meandering past in pursuit of the to and fro.
I want no grand thing, not even a flower to alight my vision
but to stand, there and forever
in the auspice of the oak tree
beside the moving brook, whereby I shall always remain.
The-Bleu-Bivouac 
Beautiful poem. Felt myself transported there.
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That’s very high praise. Thank you!
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There’s a serenity to be found amongst the trees and water that you’ve captured here. xx
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Captured and kept, is always the hope 🙂
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Indeed it is!
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Such rich description!
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Much appreciated 🙂
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Much welcomed. 😁
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