Sonnet 382

I set upon a jaunt in sun dried air,
The rain of hours ago now passed away;
Of cobalt blue, the sky lay broad and bare,
No clouds remained to portend damp dismay.
What pleasure pure to find you on my walk
Into blessed woods that beckoned warm delight;
I bade you come and join me for small talk
That we escape the numb of boredom’s blight.
We made our way into the grottoes green
Past worldly worry and the weight of bond
Into the holy peace of sylvan dreams
That soothe the souls of wayward vagabonds;
There laughter joined and in locked step and stride,
Found secret places hope and love abide.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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