While the Color Sets

My mind drifts off in solitude
Amid the noisy throng.
The chaos of a dozen tongues
The hoarse blow dryers song
Slips far behind me as I go,
A distant little whir.

Behind my eyes I see the sea
And hear its waves a stir;
The hush of breezes through the trees,
The chatter of the birds,
The silence of the meadow grass,
A song of light, not words;
The laughter of the dancing brook
The smell of sun warmed sand,
A hint of wood smoke in the air,
A lover’s gentle hand…

And then I’m startled back to now
And to the noisy here
The moment’s sojourn in my mind
Now lost in chatty cheer,
The bustle of the busy shop,
The real world, loud and clear!

Thank you, Angie!