Its Fun Friday post time…

Much the way I like it

The morning is quiet and still much the way I like it

Light shimmers on the pond reflections clearly rippled

 

Alone in thoughts, emotions and hope

Quietly I write to no one and to know just one

 

Birds play, a black bird crows and yet it seems quiet

Plane disrupts nature with high flight overhead

 

I feel everything and yet nothing at all

Why do I write these thoughts that are nothing at all

 

I read a poem about Azaleas this morning in the paper

It was nice, but I imagine it was some musings like mine

 

No words of importance, no rhythm and rhyme

But random thoughts, much the way I like it