This Place

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  • Nature

    This Place



    A brush guarded trail enter and end at a small placid place of this world. A tiny creek trickles into a translucent pool tinted with a gentle touch of indigo. Then travels on to be engulfed by the brazen iridescence of nature.
    Flamboyant flowers beg for acknowledgement. The surrounding trees reach skyward. Entangled branch-work lasciviously intervenes with both warmth and daylight.
    A smattering of bugs and birds coexist for now in a rather lethargic manor. I find myself intrigued with the intimate relationship between nature and God. I’m in a place of sincere tranquility Where only Gods unparalleled influence can be found.
    The celestial peace and the connection to spirit have emancipated me from mankind. I have no desire to ever leave this place.

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    Poetry is what is lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    slimwrangler’s Poems (9)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    You Haunt You 0
    ? 2
    Never Again By You 1
    This Place 0
    loneliness 0
    Christopher Randall 0
    Soon 0
    My Baby Boy 1
    The Next Kiss 3