Love, Walks, Music, Books.
The bench I rest upon, is
by David Lessard
not yet fully in the sun -
but the morning is so mild,
and my walk's not nearly done.
The silence seems so odd,
the traffic's nearly nil -
no breeze disturbs the air,
on this winter's day so still.
Bill Williams Mt. to the north,
recalls a mountain man of years ago -
just to the west of Flagstaff,
its summit now, crowned with snow.
Five thousand feet feet below,
perched here, upon this bench -
I ponder of life's journey,
with the sometimes monkey wrench.
And satisfied with love and walks,
content with music and my books -
I'm filled with peace and harmony,
and life's ever-changing looks.