The Poet's Lake

Oh slender words...

Slumber climb upon this heart‬ ‪give life a gentle push‬ ‪and watch us slide‬ ‪into mysterious valleys of night and day‬

‪Along the bustling streams‬ ‪refreshed, as the kingfisher darts ‬ ‪with agitation, our thousand years‬ ‪the iridescent brilliant blue‬

‪On, patiently, unto calm lakes‬ ‪where poems gathered like the leaves‬ ‪upon life giving soils‬ ‪to softly sing with Spring‬

‪Hum gentle your words‬ find our fellow swans ‪as flowers blossom‬ ‪and love grows‬

‪Come with us‬ comrades ‪be my mud of life‬ ‪as we paint our faces‬

‪to the colours‬ ‪of so many... ‬

‪The poet's lake of life‬ where trees never die nor there, grow old...

‪© Jason Christopher, London, 2017‬

I wrote this on world poetry day earlier this year 2017 - and nearly forgot about it, but having re-read it, think it is a great poem, I now like it, perhaps everything or alot of what we perceive is mood dependent?

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