The oaks locale was flawless , a songster mockingbird
was in perfect pitch , her marshland retained -
waters to exacting standards , her nutrient rich feeder streams quietly meandered
The land drew me in with perfumed 'piedmont wind'
Gods blue eyes watched over me from on high ,
faces appeared in marshmallow sky
Water lashed the banks
Pine trees reflected skyward in perfect rank
Wild azalea , honeysuckle , cottonwood and river birch
guardians stood beside me
Tall brown grass danced , directing my homeward journey