Triple Pines

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.