Imagination does not just belong
In the minds of children young.
There are those of us who like to see
And to feel that we belong.
A friend was the artist here
And I the writer true.
We spent some time together
And painted this picture for you.
We crossed a bridge from a town
And felt the breezes soft and sweet.
Clear blue skies were here
We felt it such a treat.
A roadside stall with fruit galore
Oranges and Apples mellow.
And honey sweet plums
All purple and yellow.
An Artist’s easel all set up
In the shade of a welcoming tree.
A stream running by with water clear ~
This is the picture we see.
Pebbles here all rounded and worn
And larger ones near the edge.
Some of them have a hint of moss
And act just like a little ledge.
We can smell the blossoms
And hear the bird’s sweet singing.
Storm clouds gather here
And the tiny birds are winging.
We discuss the rain to come
At the ending of the day.
The washing and the refreshing –
It’s mother natures way.
Together we walk back
And leave the picture true.
We reflect and wonder ~
The way that Artists do.
We come back to the real world
More peaceful and serene.
Refreshed and restored
By the things that we have seen.
We have shared a symphony
Of music of the mind
And I am certain that it is
The best music you can find.
© Linda J. Vaughan
November 4 2001