that place
where the brook
goes by
gently bubbling
over rocks and
flowing around
artfully strewn branches
where the path
near the bank
disappears
into the forest greenery
where the sky
of purest blue
is only broken
by the occasional
puff of white
or gliding bird

my mind sees
that place
and my heart knows
that place
and foolishly I believe
that when I find
that place
and sit at last
on the
grassy knoll
I will also find
my peace
______________
 

©Jen C.