Poem for her 760

Dear Readers,


Spring

There the water ran out of the ground
Filled a small brook and a few pools
Trickled down the hillside
The winter made the water icy at the edge
There was a crust on the pools
The taste was still fresh and crisp
Cold even in summer
We directed a flow to a Spring house
That construction with thick stones
There was a pool in back
That had steps leading into it
There was a cover over it too
The water kept for later
The winds blew the snow about the trees
We'd been snowed in a few days
Danced this morning to bright sun
The prisms split light to hues many
Edges of the fireplace still warm
The ashes being pulled out for later
Tea hot in Her cup there within reach
We'd danced the morning waking
There at the edges of sleep
Thinking of a hot shower
With spring water


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.