© Flicka Cullen
Listen to the Poem
The vines surround and cover the trees.
The breathtaking color of the golden leaves,
seem to want to inhabit my dreams.
The quietness of all their noise,
and the smell from the moss under the sun.
The drip of the dews from the tip of the grass
into the pond of white flowers.
Ripples spread out and hit the green lily pad,
wanting to whisper "welcome".
The skies color blue peak through the trees,
rays of sunshine fall onto the grass
the blades criss cross over one another,
and I slowly fall asleep in my perfect wonder.