The Hammock

Palm fronds whisper to the sky;

Cool morn breezes gently sigh.

Listen close and you can hear

Wind’s sweet message to your ears.

Great tree trunks that dance in time

To the rythyms of your mind;

Dreaming seems to suit this day

As the hammock gently sways.

 Look not here for furrowed brow-

Seek you not the why or how.

Upward gaze and contemplate

billowed clouds in sky of slate.

Worry never understands

Why some don’t make detailed plans.

Worry never rocked asleep

‘Neath the spreading maple tree.

Share this
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to The Hammock

  1. Becky says:

    Very nice, as captures the true purpose of The Hammock, when it meets the human.

  2. Jonathan says:

    I told you it wan’t political! 🙂 Thanks!

  3. Lisa says:

    Time to get my hammock out. Thanks John for a brief escape of busy thoughts.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *