Wandering


The whistle of the birds
as I wander with my heart,
turns my woes into something
more easily stored, for a time,
while comfort is located.

That tune you taught me
plays like a soundtrack ,
in the back of my mind,
as I listen, finally,
to what my mind would linger.

I follow the scenery with my eyes
as I locate new growth and wisdom
as they teach me, without a book,
those things that nature notices
and quietly offers, for those who seek.

The clouds float over my head
and the brook babbles, in it’s jolly way,
about dreams dropped like pebbles
into the traveling water,
to float wistfully onward into bigger oceans.

Published by Bexley Benton. (Pen name)

I am B (call me BB and I will gut you) I like daisies, books, and men who understand the wisdom of Kermit the Frog.

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