I’ve got peace like a river
I wake from a deep dream
Of fast flowing rivers
Water that has cradled
My sleeping body
Rivers move swiftly as my blood
Brazos, Red, Ouachita, White
Leaning against your warmth
Waking from the dream, floating
I’ve got love like an ocean
It was one of your first loves
The Atlantic and the North Carolina shore
A small boys wonder and awe
Driving all night with your buddies
To see the sun rise on the water
Before turning to drive back home
Is it true the oceans salinity
Is the same as our tears
I’ve got joy like a fountain
Rising up in the morning
A fountain of joy at your touch
Taste of salt and roar of waves
Waters rise and fall
Tidal and estuary
Oceans lakes streams creeks
Moving through our lives
Leaving peace like a river
*** this is written for DVerse Poetics tonight with the prompt ‘truce/armistice/making peace/still battling poem’. Couldn’t bring myself to write anything but a love poem. The words in italics are from an old hymn- I’ve Got Peace Like a River.
thecourseofourseasons 
Thinking of you, Kathleen. Blessings to you and yours, Ellen
The rhythm, the melody, the thoughts… all reflect loveliness, exhiliration, and restfulness… just beautiful.
Pretty!
Lovely!
LOVE
Love is always
making days. And
obeys them too!
🙂
What a lovely response specially the last stanza ~
When all else fails, I too write love poems ~
Happy Sunday ~
Such a pretty poem – a wonderful idea to use all the different flows of water. Very joyful and lovely, yet wonderfully rooted in that flow. k.
so beautiful. great imagery here, enjoyed what you did, a great response to the prompt!
oh love it…i know that song…and now can’t stop humming it…love how you make it personal..a wonderful write kathleeen
Thanks so much, Claudia – keep singing! K
smiles…i know that old hymn….and wonderful expansion on it…love poems work for me for sure…joy at your touch
Taste of salt and roar of waves…love that line…and love your play with water as well…and all the movement…
great to see you poet…smiles.
Thanks, Brian. Finding the prompt difficult after the past week. Difficult too to read many of the wonderful poems tonight – still feeling too fragile to read of war and death.