by Colleen Nudge
As the father slowly rises
gently warming to the day,
he starts his trek to the apex
the path he paces every day.
As the lady edges wakening
gently stretching where she lay,
sighing with the new beginning
contentment with her each new day.
As he crosses the lofty hilltop
beaming brightly; moving slow,
the father views the track before him
knowing he must further go.
As she looks upon her garden
watching weed and flower grow,
rose and thistle, daisy, clover
inch by foot her plot she knows.
As two white petals gently flutter
landing briefly, then off they fly,
a gentle breeze caresses softly
whispering secrets from the sky.
Slow and steady he makes his progress
now the day is nearly done,
edging closer to his resting
for the day is nearly won.
As the shadows start their creeping
telling all that eve is nigh,
darkness steals upon the evening
the lady breathes her gentle sighs.
As the mother softly enters
gazing on lady’s sweet repose,
tenderly she beams down upon her
the day’s leisure’s sweet dreams sow.
So they wander ever onward
following their simple paths,
as the lady daily ponders
simple beauty oh so vast.