Sylvan pine trees idyllic stir but do not budge...

Sylvan pine trees idyllic stir but do not budge…







Rustic curtains bestir back and forth
Panting wind blusters through the open cobwebbed casement
I breathe deep the air sweet

Sylvan pine trees idyllic stir but do not budge
Cool gales bristle through the pines harmoniously in symphony and rhapsody
Composing resonance through its forested ceiling

Rain, soft, falling from above
Makes its journey from pillowed thunderheads above
Trickling off the roof, puddles in soliloquy convey natures speak

Overhead nature clashes distant in the atmosphere
God Almighty’s footsteps reverberate
Thundering behind majestic granite peaks
From far away awakens me slightly

Traversing between drowsy velveteen thoughts
Reality peeks in and goes, eyelids open slight then close
Heed the fire crackling feigning its last breath
Puffing and heaving its last hint of heat [avatar user=”Eric Von Rohr” size=”100″ align=”right”]

Shall I rise to stoke these dying flames beckoning?
To feed its hunger for my warmth
Bemoaning to stir myself, yet though, I shall let it slumber, like me

Copyright © Eric Von Rohr

Copyright © 2012 Wandering Satellite Publishing

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