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POETRY BOOK THREE: Your Writing Hand
Ripples on the Lake

Sometimes I go out walking
Soon after I awake;
I go to see the shadows,
Reflections on the lake.

The water mirror image,
The faces of the trees,
The summer moon still shining,
And not a bit of breeze.

The spider webs and maples,
The cattails and the reeds,
Are covered with the dewdrops,
Mother Nature’s beads.

And Mother Nature’s greedy,
Just once will not suffice;
Because of the reflections,
I see the image twice.

But then the wind starts blowing,
The water is awake,
Destroying every shadow,
Ripples on the lake.

The ripples add a wrinkle,
The likeness runs away,
To see the image once again
I’ll come another day.

|| My Poetry ||