Give me just a blanket
On a steamy summer's day
And let me find an old oak tree,
Where I can steal away

From pillared porches, easy chairs,
Though comfortable they be
Soft breezes ruffle pages
Of my book of poetry.

Rehearse the verse, time and again,
Of favorites I've found
Those words draw impressive pictures
Of memories profound.

Emotions rage as true romance
Is found on every page,
Or Words of Wisdom
Enhance advice that is so sage.

I travel far across time, and space,
And distance to foreign lands.
I meet new friends, I feel their pain,
And try to understand.

I haven't left my random garden
Here, and yet I seem to find
A new comprehension
And a calming Peace of Mind.

Oh, give me just a blanket
On a steamy summer's day
And let me find an old oak tree,
Where I can steal away

To read; until I must close
My eyes and rest so quietly
And dream again of places
I've been in my Book of Poetry.

Karen
© September 4, 2005