By J.Lynne Moore
Water walks to the wayward shore,
Over and under the sparkling decor.
The gleaming shadows,
Harbor no secret gloss,
From the weeping emerald moss.
Twisting and turning across its bed.
In a leisurely pursuit of what’s ahead.
Carving a path all its own,
Washing away all circumstance,
Moving along in a heavenly dance.
Carrying life to all who will sup,
From its succulent refreshing cup.
Caressing the banks in a gentle embrace,
Bubbling with effervescent delight,
It’s beauty ripples day and night.
© 2016 -2017 Cashmere Illusions.blog /J.Lynne Moore All Rights Reserved