JUNE, ON THE CUSP OF SUMMER

 

WANDER HERE, WANDER HERE

When the heat of the day has wilted your energy and left even your imagination at low ebb, Wander here, Wander Here.

Take the shady path, through the gate, out and around beside the water, past the magic gazing ball in the marjoram---the exotic fragrance rising with each sandal-step.

A small, hopeful sunbeam ignites the white silk of a Peace Lily bloom beside the lane. 

Perhaps fortune will allow us a glimpse of a small fairy, deep in the wood,  before she flees at the sound of our steps.

And as we stroll around the circle and near home again, take your rest, take your ease, and listen to the birdsong.

And to complete the concert, linger beneath the silver web for  more ethereal music, like a gossamer CD spinning out the haunting notes of a Glass Harp: