Poetry: Heaven - by Daniel Highfield

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by Daniel Highfield

Created on: August 31, 2008 Last Updated: July 22, 2011

Dead Leaves.

The misty winds that blow the summer seeds that only fall once.
The slow moving shadows,
that fall from the highest tree's.
They for-tell on the underlying leaves,
that form the floor.

How wise can the earth be,
that man has not touched.
The lost time it holds.
If I could push myself down in to the ground,
what would I find? Some piece of mind,
that man has not found, nor touched by the soles of trodden feet.

How bliss.

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Poetry: Heaven

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Dew drop sparkling diamond green grasses
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A beauty so implicit
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Somewhere past eternity
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Air bubbles up
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