Tender Places

House of Heart

The small lake shimmers with light

reeds rustle beneath

the feet of a fawn

leaning forward her pink tongue

curls backward

spattering the sweetness of life

into her nose and eyes

spotted ears pull sideways

heeding the sigh of the forest

the breath of a breeze

the kiss of sunlight transforms

autumn gold to green

beyond the edge of the wood

fall collides with spring

in  tender places of the wild

Do No Harm

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About Jonathan Caswell

Mr. Caswell has been composing poetry at least since High School. He has been on WORD PRESS for ten years and contributes to two other blogs beside this one. This blog has a Christian emphasis but all bloggers are welcome. Mr. Caswell chooses to---with permission--re[post material of interest

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