I cannot understand why you can sit in a beautiful panoramic setting And feel so not, beautiful Un apart of it all
People fishing, walking starring into the water As if it was a panacea I too gaze wishfully
I look at an older man, who has been there as long as I. Not doing much, just peering to the water
Passing time maybe? Mourning, escaping Just thinking or trying not too? Possible just as I Enjoying here more than there
So peaceful unlike most moments The wind feels like my own There's a genuine comfort in this solitude A feeling I wish I could take and splash upon other areas of my life
It's nice here in this moment I am reminded, how it is to feel
I think people come here to catch their breath A connection of sorts
Angie
* * * * Painting is silent poetry, and poetry is painting that speaks. Plutarch Plants: 11590 | From: WI | Registered: May 2006
| Seeded: 205.188.116.9
* * * * No one escapes the wilderness on the way to their promised land. Plants: 77 | From: Houston Texas | Registered: Mar 2006
| Seeded: 72.181.130.92
* * * * Painting is silent poetry, and poetry is painting that speaks. Plutarch Plants: 11590 | From: WI | Registered: May 2006
| Seeded: 152.163.101.7
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Printer-friendly view of this garden