Wednesday, 13 March 2013

Wednesday Morning in the wood.

 This little wood calls me whenever I am feeling blue.

 The well worn paths tell a tale of  other visitors . 

                      Who come nourish their souls.


                 Or just for fun.


  I ponder on the aches and wounds that these woods have healed.


Through the sound of running streams. 

And time spent . . . .

In quiet but cheerful company.

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