Her Voice

Bird flying over lake
The sleeping tree is tall and proud.

By the lake, a swallow darts across the water.
As the leaves rustle, the rabbits return.

Someday I will love all of my life.
The patterns of hope spread around me.
I admire the organic peace in this garden.

Waiting for the chance to leap up,
I feel the sky drawing near.
My love is still far away.
I smile when I hear her voice.

W. Wayne B.

New poetry book: Eyes of Hope

Follow me on Twitter: @williamwayneb

© 2015 W. Wayne B.
Original image: Tree Swallow. By jc.winkler [Image license]

About William Wayne Smith

I'm a poet, library fan and maker.
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