Young Writers Society

I stand under the apple tree
and allow the sweet blossom
fragrance to caress my senses.

The glistening dew and enchanting light
mingle together like a soft melody
in the Early morning summer mist.

A fuzzy grey rabbit lopes down by the banking
nibbling at the glittering emerald sea before it
A feast! A feast in deep seclusion and solitude

Satisfied to be, to wander, to rabbit!
With the surety of the maturing apple blossom
That will surely bring its fruit in season

As a season of plenty, then a season of fasting
The delicacy of the penetrating winter
This white pearl of majesty to crown the year

To put to bed all the trouble and woes
Under the quilted billows of slumbering snow
The purest white to cover worn out trails

Yet behold for a time as the summer descends
The lush green tapestry turns to rustic decoration
That shakes of its leaves in a spiraling wind

And for a time I remain
Under blossom, under sky and under Gods heavens
Allowing the sweet sweet morning to sing its berceuse


Any feedback would be great - thanks