The peace the wonder of the bush
Far from the citiy’s madding push,
The silence filling beneath the trees.
The whispering rustle of a tiny breeze.
Faint bird calls echo from far away
Drifting faintly through the day
Silence golden evrywhere, no hint of rush or hurry there,
As stillness , calms my jangled nerves,and calms my soul.
Far too soon I must return, to the city’s frantic rush and swirl,
Of blaring traffics rush and whirl
But somewhere in the corner of my mind, is the peace I find
Of that bushland setting, so calm and right, which brings the blessing and brief respite.
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Reviews of "Respite"
Reviewed by C. Gourlay (Reader)
Reviewed on June 23, 2003
This is lovely and reminds me, in concept rather than word, of Wordsworth's 'I wondered Lonely as a Cloud'
"For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils."
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"For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils."