Watching steadfast rocks pass waves downstream.
Watching ants scurry to and fro stacking hills sky high.
Watching birds soar high in formation with visions, a plan and a mission set on arriving in a warmer destination.
Hearing street sounds as cars leave the city limits for the quiet found in the countryside and sunsets as wide as eyes can see on both sides.
Seeing planes leave behind white plumes like brides in full stride for all to behold.
Watching breezes subtle suggestion to idle leaves to arise and scatter. I glad nothing can hurry me like the breeze in leaves.
I am thankful for a day to take in all this that gave me bliss for a day to be at rest.
Timothy Branch's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (All day by Timothy Branch )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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