Miles Underfoot

Wed, 07/29/2015 - 10:42 -- TedZ

Apparition upon pristine country,

Without contents in the empty gray pack.

Music in the presence of the low star,

I see resource ready for the ransack.

These can assist me to thrive thus far.

Secured mental and physical order,

Beauty becomes greatly comprehended.

Shadows not cast at this time of ardor,

Leafs and the flowers fully extended.

Thoughts and ideas become sundry,

As I identify my chest bounty.

 

Beyond the horizon I see water,

There could be a wood ship and its masts

Upon that water to the east and north,

Or there may have been villages there last…

Now to the cold mountains which fourth,

Or third perhaps, will have some grass planted.

They tell me it keeps them from the cold frost,

So, like to a master, it is granted.

From there a new bridge asks to be crossed.

All the pristine is not mine to alter,

Though its kilometers my feet blotter.

 

Upon rivers I float like the white duck.

Progress is slowly done in this method,

But it is the overall trip that’s enjoyed.

On dry terra firma, I wasn’t bested,

The trees are a structure hard to avoid.

After these trees come the southerly lake.

It is a pane of glass in a wood frame.

The hot water’s temperature could bake.

I walk around to see more land untamed.

With tears I see a place and am love-struck:

I shall reside here no matter my luck.                                               

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