Ripplin' Waters
There is no peace can be found
Quite like that of a murmering stream.
Me wrapped in a hammock in the crisp woodland air.
Drifting in and out of a dream.
No rumble of the air conditioner,
To paint over the clean summer heat,
Just a soft cooling breeze off the river, scents swirling
Where the forest and the river's breaths meet.
Deep is the slumber by rippling waters.
A clean kind of tiredness all through.
Muscles stretched loose from paddling all day
In rapport with a drifting canoe.
Let me sleep many days by the river yet,
Before my long voyage is done.
Give me peaceful days by the rippling waters,
Swinging softly in the afternoon sun.
© by Tom King
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