Sylvan scene beyond the boggy marshes
Softly sweet this bosky stand of hemlock
Invites us in and deeper yet, chambered
In sweet surrender to passionate love.
None can see, nor hear, nor find us hiding
Nestled in the intimacy of soul
Where like this one lost creek meandering
We are not anxious to leave this shelter.
Cover me with kisses, and I'll enter
With rejoicing in this magic whose spell
Turns wetlands forthwith to beauty's burrows
And innocent expressions to Eden.
In the cool of the day we'll walk and talk
At home with our Creator who is pleased.
(C) 20l7 david w palmer