Slowly paddling, on a still lake
in my birch bark canoe,
hearing the sound of a loon
in the early morning dew
A solitary traveller I am
past totem poles from long ago
tears flow down my cheeks
the child in me starts to flow
Like a river raging I write
poems of love and pain in me,
my spirit kisses heaven's face,
in that moment, tranquility
On a still lake..peace of the gliding canoe..
Unique the moments.
Lady Mary Ann
Ron
Beautiful and serene poem...eases the soul...
Many blessings,
+Linda
Peace, love and light,
Amber
in the quiet of nature...
your thoughts span as the glass of the water
reflections of what is within you...
Well done Dark
Love and Light
Lily