Girl Guide camp wasn’t like this, although there are similarities.
Here, though, there is perfect food,
comfort, and sweet solitude.
I came up this lane willingly
Laden with bitterness and fatigue,
Driven by determination
Slowly opening, becoming soulful and sad.
I shall leave relaxed, confident, soothed.
Gentle green pathways
Smattered with artists and acrylics
Lead to rushing water, stillness, and peaceful moments.
My face turns to the sun of wisdom.
Me, an almost forgotten sunflower.
Opening faces, such delicate wildflowers
Welcoming this easiness, safety, and purity
With slow smiles.
Little rain beats sing
On my cedar haven
I wonder if the tiny beaver hears them too
As I snuggle deeper beneath
The green woolen blanket.
Birdsong and uninhibited laughter
Reflections of these honest confessions
Reflections that shimmer as
I stand on this swaying dock
Or rest on this white bench at still water.
Gold when I swim, like a bronze bodied princess.
Little luxuries, easiness
Group of Seven Stillness
Weave me back to who I am.
We draw the same breath
Shoulder to Shoulder
In a circle
Candle Blowers.
Trees heavy green
Through windows wide
And I am content inside.
Room in this log house too
For a rusty coloured piano
A gazoo-groove tune
And dancing over wooden plank floors.
Sing Sweet “Summertime”
And say good night
Shining wineglasses, empty of their golden light.
<I’m ready to write>“