Tuesday, October 12, 2010

The Song

Yesterday evening I was chilling outside and just spent some time simply listening to the sounds around me. I haven't written a poem for ages, but decided to have a go. Here is the result!

Your song, oh God, is deeper; richer
Than any man-made sound or mixture.
The soft whisper of rustling leaves
In springtimes cool, refreshing breeze;
A muted sound of rushing stream
Is beauty heard and yet unseen;
Sparrows lift a care-free cry
As playfully they race the sky;
And down below a child at play
Laughs a toast to this glorious day.

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