Crick Bed

In the woods

A crick bed

Babbles obtrusively

Voluntarily

The crick bed breathes

Witnesses

The essence of a nature

It speaks secrets of

To the essence of innocence

As it stills the childhood in our hearts

The children of both of us hides

From the monster in the woods

Goes away slowly

All too slowly

Till the trees talk

To mark the time

We both listen with new ears

As the trees talk one with the other

Nature herself lifts its solitary voice

While we two Children

Still innocent enough

In our hearts

Quiet enough

In our souls

To hear

Listening

To the crick bed

Breathe

As the sounds of the monster

Fade dead away

George Geisinger

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About geostan51

I'm a wordsmith and a craftsman. I've been known to hand crochet just about anything escept granny squares. I've got about twenty titles in my name on the Kindle Store at Amazon.com.
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