BALCONY OF REFLECTION^®
Original, metaphysical, dream-spun poetry
especially for you by Donna J. Fennel.
Quilled on this 23rd day of July, 2004
from my balcony in Harmony, Arkansas.
Revised with pride for you on June 12, 2006.
My horizon harbors most haunting beauty.

Melodious is the sultry sparrow’s note ~
This hallowed haunt of happiest lovers.
As valley leans toward graceful grove ~
And treasure trove of terrain it covers.

Soft Sedona sunrise sanctifies verse ~
Holy Highness’ vestige of vibrant view.
Erstwhile foxes engage in merry mirth ~
Such pageantry is Harmony for we two.

Forest of care shared with a land so fair ~
Delectable desire to inspire imagination.
While nature displays her majesty of lair ~
I issue a prayer for her delicate creation.

Yonder stream doth gleam ever so pristine ~
As it bubbles 'midst rubble of minor decay.
Erstwhile spirit is freed atop mine balcony ~
He blesses my dear friends for whom I pray.

Hearken silence as a dreamy dawn awakes ~
Bestowing soulful softness, ere holy and still.
As lark’s lilting lullaby evokes a song quake ~
I am spiritually sustained, as I questfully quill.

Creamiest of clouds cradle 'mongst the heights ~
As vapors taper and sneak 'round hills and peaks.
A myriad of mist, erstwhile land is dew-kissed ~
This hour is theirs, shading softest sun so weak.

Horizon harbors daintiest star that never sets ~
As wildflowers and willows dance with violets.
Tempest from yesterday draws its final breath ~
Erstwhile I write passionately from my parapet.

Pines stand 'pon our land, warlords of waste ~
Bent from earlier storms with winds interlaced.
Soothed by azure breath, under holy dominion ~
Mind doth instills me to quill mine humble opinion.

Catapulted, capitulated towards a transcension ~
Into mine ancient days, daring to cross dimension
Sans apprehension, for here memories are spawned ~
To pen on paper, during dreamy decadence of dawn.

I am a tired traveler between brethren life and death ~
Passing through portals, chartering my peaceful quest.
Ah, this labyrinth of mystery, indeed, reveals history ~
That I hath scribed poetry for conquerors and chivalry.

For I hear with ear of a compassionate, caring soul ~
The mournful misery of civilizations through history.
I seek to encourage and nourish to make man whole ~
And reveal, nay ne'er conceal the key to life’s mystery.

Shortly, trees shall bear their sunward summit crown ~
Shimmering sunbeams 'midst our wayfarer wildflowers.
Erstwhile I am winnowed by whispers of warmest air ~
Caressing mine complexion so fair and this sleepy town.

Harmony’s wilderness possesses the instinct to carry on ~
As tho my husband and I hath ne’er laid a foundation here.
Woven by the holy hand of God, this terra of humble sod ~
Nay, nor be a pawn of progress, wild and free o’er years.

O, I embrace this tranquil trove of an assured solitude ~
As a bald eagle spreads its wings and meadow larks sing.
And I witness, still, from balcony’s sill a whip-o-will ~
Bidding adieu to freshest dew, as I quill to the multitudes.

During mine blissful, blushing morn’s hour of power ~
Whence nightingales bid farewell to their evening spell
Waking waters whisper, erstwhile willow tendrils tether ~
Beckoning brink of balmy weather, my heart doth swell.

Wind chimes whisper words, whirling me into dream ~
As bunnies in valley’s vestibule resurrect their ritual
Of teasing mine cats, I conjure now a sardonic scheme ~
To scare and not spare them, for their play is perpetual.

I am a minstrel mercenary, quilling soul-spun sonnets ~
Erstwhile sun sneaks slowest peek from clouded shroud.
Methinks an hour past ten, I shall don a bright bonnet ~
And quill once again, atop mine blessed balcony proud.

^©2004-09 Donna J. Fennel, Owner of Donnadreamland.  All rights reserved^®.

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Author: Donna J. Fennel | Copyright ©2003-09 donnadreamland | All rights reserved.
Revised: March 5, 2008.