Rhythm, Rhyme and Prose
A walk is like a poem with rhythm, rhyme or prose.
Both can touch the senses from your head down to your toes.
With pen in hand letís take a stroll and watch this poem grow,
Until our walk is complete with rhythm, rhyme and prose.
It hung from an overgrown trail in Hawaii
Several others had fallen to the ground
So I plucked the guava and tasted its sweet tartness
I hiked in Oregonís mountains
Its coast is just as grand
Sometimes clouds and fog hide them from view
I closed my eyes to listen to New Mexicoís wind
The only sound was the rustling of desert sage
Then I heard itís hallow breath
I walked through the Deep South
Magnolias, swamps and shrimp
Biloxi has a smell of its own.
Thereís nothing like the feel of California driftwood
Dried, swollen and scattered down stretches of beach
Worn by wave and sand
Many more walks lie ahead that point to the source I know
Itís God above whoís given all that He might show
His wonder and imaginings and all the things that could
Touch our many senses to taste and see that He is good.
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