by Susan Miles
I travel south, thru the tall sunflowers, Zinnias kiss my ankles, dirt my toes, I’ve learned to take the path of least resistance, And follow where the scent of flowers grow. I see the bed where lovers find their slumber, And the table where the summer fare is spread, Pink linen drapes the window’s lovely fashion, Antique quilt on a mahogany bed. Feel the love when gathered round the circle, As we listen to the songs there one-by-one, Languish in the circle of this blessing, And full arms of love when the day is done.