Outside My Door

The Earth sleeps in high limbs,

Swaying in tropical breezes,

Her cradle a nest of branches.

She slumbers coiled like a cat.

Her breast rises and falls

In the moon’s bright light.

She sleeps just outside

The door and waits.

Author: Susan Feathers

Family, friends, nature, books, writing, a good pen and journal, freedom of thought, culture, and peaceful co-relations - these are the things that occupy my mind, my heart, my time...

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