Tall green trees meeting the sky...
Sparkling dark cold water...
The sun begins to shine.
I push my small canoe
from shore
gently stepping in.
A quiet balance...
I paddle around the bend.
Alone on the lake...
not a soul in sight.
I lean back and trail my fingers through
the northern waters.
Sighing, I rest.
The sun is warm,
yet the air is chilly.
Ducks look at me tentatively,
wondering.
The lake is the same
as I remembered.
Comforting me.
Welcoming me.
Giving to me.
My heart holds this lake close
when I am far away.
My mind relives the simple, sweet memories.
You were still alive.
I am thankful that I have...
My canoe. My lake. My memories of you.
Regis
Please feel free to visit my site here in the "Den".
Love, Diana
Ingeborg