A path meanders the dappled shore,
wanders wellworn to a pebbly beach
where shallows sparkle, waffle, and
warble under the spreading sycamore.
The forest ascends in a giant crowd
its press of swaying, silent pillars
that inspire, shelter, and astound,
that tower ageless and enduring.
Lush prairie grass invites a tryst,
our afternoon reverie; lays silky soft
as a wood nymph’s nest, pungent
with earthy shoreline musk.
A lacy, leafy, shimmering canopy
sifts shadows, mutes the sunlight,
rustles faintly, whispers softly,
casts its hazy spell near twilight.
We linger near the lapping shallows,
lean and laze by the sunstruck shore,
meander a passage through an arbor
timeless, taintless, noble and pure.