Thursday, May 18, 2017



Scape

No splendor of waterfall
no majesty of mountain
no mystery of gully
no secrets of a dark wood.
You do not take my breath away
stop my heart
sting me with beauty.
Modest landscape
you suit this life of mine.
Easy, slow rise
gentle decline
I would be a green hill
against a blue sky.

Bridget Harwell

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