Prairie Poetry

I stand on a bank
Beside peacefulness,
The soft moonlight,
Like a whisper,
Touching shallows.
The trees, slightly
Stirring, frame
The distant snow line,
The nocturne limned
With the paint
Of a sunglow sky.
I feel her presence
On evenings like this,
Her guiding influence
Over the trace,
Her spirit by me
In the quiet.
Her ethereal beauty
Is part of this place.

  Donna A. Ryan
  Copyright © 2004 Donna A. Ryan
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