Compass magnetized to truth,
lead me to serenity.
Through brazen brambles
toward path with verdant ferns,
emerald grass and sentinel trees.
Close to streams unseen but heard.
Soft swishes, trickles too,
psalms in salient tranquility.
Guide me through morass
into a land of grace.
Written for Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the world. Today De is hosting and asks us to include the word “magnet” or a form of the word in our poem that is exactly 44 words, sans title. Photo taken a number of years ago on trip to see our niece in Ohio.