Wet Wood
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| I spent two summers here as a life guard and boat driver. I can still smell the aroma of the wooden boathouse 32 years later. Photo courtesy of Young Life Saranac Village Tupper Lake, NY |
lay beneath expanse of night
as summer sings her song
the rising of each
dancing breath
disappearing
above the earthy smell
of this wet wood
lay over me
Your midnight sky
glorious covering of stars
water lapping underneath
tucking in my soul
with heartbeats
of gentle waves
breathe deeply then
this lullaby
returned to You in praise
a sweet aroma rising
my closing eyes inhale
crystal memories born again
from this wet wood
Today, One Stop Poetry features lessons on writing free verse from Fireblossom.
p.s. Dear Shay, I do not presume to have learned or applied said lessons. The posted result above is only a reflection on the student, not the teacher. =). It’s hard to be an unlearned, unsophisticated poet…. but that’s a poem for another day.
p.s. Dear Shay, I do not presume to have learned or applied said lessons. The posted result above is only a reflection on the student, not the teacher. =). It’s hard to be an unlearned, unsophisticated poet…. but that’s a poem for another day.
