Resting Place

Please Help ZNet






The heart seeks a resting place

In the hollow of a tree,

Atop a boulder in a singing stream

Where only the sun can see.


A converse of birds and bees,

And a meal of falling fruit,

And a calm secure from the footfall

Of inspectors in pursuit.


The world now has agendas

That to friendship do not tend;

The sweetest solicitations disguise

Some purposeful intent.

Leave a comment