Pamela Hirte

The cedar house

lives near the lake.

Glazed with sunlight,

perfumed by pine.

 

Aged stone pathway

down to the water.

Vines swing from above,

grasses rush to shore.

 

Aboard a fishing boat,

Lolling on the lake.

Willows graze glassy top,

calm, lazy day.

 

Trees knit together.

A creek invites,

oar to old oak.

Plop! Bait hits water.

 

Reel in striped bass,

boat brims with bounty.

Retreat to lustrous lake.

Blue skies; head home.

 

Boat back at landing.

Fillet fish outside.

Dock leads to pathway,

fish and grits for supper.

 

The cedar house

lives near the lake.

Glazed with sunlight,

perfumed by pine.

 

Pamela D. Hirte

 

Published by:  Distilled Lives