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All is Quiet
Leafy lanes.
Leafy lanes and sweet refrains,
Hills bowing in the mist,
The soft dew on the grass,
That the morning’s kissed.
The wind and waves moan and plash,
Otherwise, it’s quiet,
It’s early in the morning,
After a more relaxed night.
The heat is gone; it’s travelled on,
The embers are still glowing,
The hot weather has travelled north,
Now a southerly is blowing.
In my mind, I’ve left behind,
The travel through the babble,
All is quiet, and in spite,
Of thoughts, I like to dabble.
I’ve carved off the deadwood,
And left with a green bough,
It’s called dispensing with the past,
And living in the now.
Summer comes and summer goes,
Then autumn leaves will fall,
And I can hear the sound,
Of the peace dove’s call.
All is quiet in my mind,
No niggling expectations,
Just the astonishing…