Poem: “The Swing”


Swishing, air freshening your being…

The sky so much closer

Clouds over-head billowing,

Inviting you to join them.

Your mind cleared of all but gliding rhythm…

The trees beckoning with leafy arms, their

boughs bent by summer breezes…

While you, transcended through space and time;

Imagine dwellings made of leaves, castles made

of clouds…

And you…master of all you survey from your

kingdom high above,

Swing to your heart’s content;

Feeling  joy…peace…calm…

A serenity of suspended motion…

If only ALL of life was such as this!

    July 9, 1986–Ben, 24 years old

         By: Carole Norman Scott

(Written while watching him swing!)

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