
In the garden of tranquility grows a flower
of pure white and many petals.
It grows beneath a plank bridge, in a field
of multi-colored hues.
Tiny frogs swarm around its base, waiting
to grow and leave home.
One bumble-bee circles the yellow center,
knowing nectar will be his for the taking.
In this perfect moment of peace, war seems
very far away.
Author notes
Written July 2nd, 2006
A contest entry
- peace by maa.
333 points, ended July 9, 2006, 21 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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I like the finish of this. It sort of sums up a feeling I get when I feel I've escaped and time seems paused for a little while... when you forget all your worries and your cares. Nice imagery.
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this is a peaceful write. it's simply done as serenity is.
when i'm outside and just observing it's the little things like this, which give perspective in relation to my own problems...making them seem smaller some how. -
excellent write
Such a peaceful and tranquil write I really loved it. Wow is all I can say. Such a vivid picture of peace. Excellent write
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This is almost (almost!) as beautiful as you! What a wonderful picture you painted here, and I especially loved the ending line, for there are many "wars" in each of our worlds, many going on within our own minds! But if we can lose ourselves in the moment, giving in to the wondrous nature of life, then peace is felt, and once felt, cherished, and sought after more! Beautifully penned dear Wolfie! (scratches her behind the ears, nuzzles her cheek with his own) Another reason for me to love you so! much Peace, and I wish this sincerely, in your life! I love you! John
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dear wolf heart,
thank you so much for your colorful canvas of tranquility and serene beauty. your description of the landscape reminds me very much of a visit to the gardens of the famous impressionist painter claude monet near paris. his garden looks like your garden of tranquility ...
have a look :
giverny.org/gardens/
isn't it wonderful ?
and so peaceful and inspiring. a lot of young art-students go there to paint and draw ... a haven of peace.
well, thank you for having brought back these long-forgotten memories, dear wolf heart, and to have allowed me to bathe once again within this atmosphere of bliss ...
yes, in such an atmosphere, the word "war" sounds like from a foreign language ...
many blessings to you,
maa
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