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To know that silence
Is just a pause
A pause to water the cracks in the dry earth
For the shoot to breathe a sigh of relief
Be tickled by the gentle breeze
A tiny shadow under the sun
It takes nurturing to see the plant bloom
And silence to experience
The stillness of the calm
Your heart sounds like
The rhythm of Me
In that old river across the forest,
In those shaky fingers
Playing on a false piano.
You think I am matching with the stars,
I am that  undiscovering Sun
Looking through an oak tree,
You lay there as a sleeping deer,
And I am the arrow;
Missing this life.

Behind the palm trees
In the vast, rust coloured sky
Sets the orange sun
 Sep 2021 eleanor prince
Solaces
The morning sun whispered to the streetlights to go to sleep..
The morning sun burned away the fog from the moons dreams..
The day has chased the night away..
I was head down at my desk,
it came wafting, on a whispering
breeze through my open window
like a belated bouquet of spring
flowers, the refreshing long awaited
essence of life on our planet, gentle
new autumn rain upon thirsty earth,
plants and yellowing summer grass.

No other ethereal scent is like it.
The enticing fragrance of rebirth
and replenishment.

And what a fine, long needed
gift of nature this is.
A personal impression
celebration of living
in the moment.
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