I am awoken from a restful sleep aware of the fresh air

the open window brings as she begins to sing

it is the sound of the loon calling me to her side

I stride towards the beckoning sound and her shore

as the door swings open to a new dawn and a rising sun

the early morning mist departing to reveal her beauty

she is glass like this day, stillness the allure

her stillness belies her truth that she can be rough enough

as I stand beside her admiring the horizon she willingly displays

my ears are attune to her lapping sounds,  my heart calm

launching my canoe I begin to paddle amidst her blueness

each stroke like the combing of her hair with twirls and curls

today she allows me to glide with ease yet she can also be a tease

the gentle breeze now professed can transform into a mighty storm

it is within her grace that she allows me this place of serenity

for she could as easily sweep off my serendipity with a rough sea

sounds of gulls take my eyes upwards into the clear blue sky

watching them soar all the while jealous of their ability for flight

a honking sound now has me looking to my right to catch sight

of a gaggle of geese in mid-flight her back their launching pad

and without warning there’s a splash as a fish leaps into the air

in search of its morning dish of insect and bugs, as it dives

back into the water, its sanctuary, its home I am reminded again

of her kindness that she provides in sheltering bays

her gentle waves taking me on a journey into the depths

of this lake they call Placid

Andreas Simic©

rims rolling, underneath the machine moving
on a path beaten

legs of one leaving, they look good
departing

she had a packet of sugar, what was it
she sought to sweeten

tarter than battery acid, acidic lady
who makes the mood, placid

you try, gathering to go after
to follow this feeling, disheartening

this love was a disaster
but you want more, mayday man
maybe, today
you'll get her

Received on February 14th, valentines day
Not meant to be this way
Just for my soul to train
The cup she gave me
my valued  possession
turned to the thing
blocking progression
I drink from it
Filled with rage
Wrists un-slid
again, this stage
Keep it to tease
the beast inside me
for if I throw it away
I would be the same
that I was the day
I broke her
and threw her away

Placid water parts,
Up flies quick, a cormorant;
Epiphanous this!

On the lake
Sits a toad,
An ugly thing
Three years old
With boils,
large lumps,
And a croak
That challenges
The voice
Of an old woman
Who smokes.
Placidly he stares
Off in space,
And doesn't care
What takes a glance
And passes upon his lake.
He is a simple thing,
Three years old
Admiring tranquility
On a quiet lake.