Serenity

I drink in the pleasures of a bathing bird
Defiant and vulnerable upon the ground.
Feathers spread as waters wash to naked flesh.
Plump are those who feast here
And slow to wing their flight to air.
Still, they know security rests in this place
And so might they.
Paradise has many names,
Home is but one.

by Joyce M. Reed, Gelhaus

Other poems of JOYCE M. REED, GELHAUS (2)

Comments (1)

I read this poem two times, thinking upon it. says alot in just a few short lines. peace does exsit if we take the time to find it. pleasures are found all around us. After a long hard day or at the start, Serenity can be found in such sweet quite moments.