Days of old, days new.
Roaming along,
the waters edge.
Skipping stones from long ago!
Cutting winding vines of thorny deeds.
Whilst, protecting flesh from a bleed.
Silken flowers wave in the breeze.
On the edge beneath a tree.
A promise... a story?
Glimpse the future seeds.
Plop!
A rock floats to muddy depths.
A spider weaves its intrigued web.
Eyes peering from across the way.
Watching!
Waiting to fly away!
Ripples jump from shore to shore.
Atop, a leaf spins to explore.
Small fleeting signs!
Dancing to the waters design.
Karen van Wyk
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-pond-9/
