Stillness,
how precious
in
the midst of the mayhem;
time
to take deep breath.
Deserted
places
punctuate
the noisiness
of
insistent crowds.
A
boat to escape,
find
time to think, and to eat;
to
pray and to weep.
A
deserted place
to
retreat from the masses.
Alas,
they've found us!
From
marketplace, farm,
city
and village they come,
begging
and hoping.
©
Ken Rookes 2015
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