A Soul Nourishing Bone Broth

What is it about the smell of  cookies baking. Watching the dogs chase each each other through autumn leaves. Taking a stroll on the first morning dew of spring. The sound of rain on a corrugated roof, or thatch if that weaves you. Perhaps its dozing by the beach with fishing pole in hand, as the sun dances or fades.

Where does your soul go to recharge?

One coupon (poem) per entrant

The Lake District - my spiritual home.

https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/265527-an-open-letter-to-wordsworth/

Thankyou for kicking things off Missy

Harvest

Take my body
Offered like Manna
As you suckle the pink sweet
Slick with our delicate effects
Until you find nourishment
As your hungry gaze studies my Imperfections
Finding them more than fond familiar
They might become beautiful bounty
Where you harvest pleasure
Laid into my flesh
With uncommon heat
Now Rizing to your sun

Quietude Of The Night

When the day has worn me out
And my shine is void of light
I wait for darkness to rule
Draw strength from the starry night

Body,mind and soul reunites
I'm back to one good piece
In a nocturnal romance with mother nature
Enjoying her passionate kiss

Re-invigorated and deeply inspired
By the nightly creature's song
Pacified from deep within
A peace that heals all wrong

Once again I'm encouraged
To move on and to try
For the hopelessness of the day
Are nothing but mere lies

Relax and Enjoy

Life's tribulations take their toll
Where can I go to cleanse my sole

My garden is an escape
Flowers enhance the landscape
Vegetables and fruit fresh to eat
Their flavour is hard to beat

The countryside is full of birds
Plumage beauty beyond words
Hills and woods set the scene
In summer a patchwork of green

The sandy shore a place to enjoy
Sunbathe nude, I'm not coy
Swim in the sea if it is warm
Careful to avoid the storm

In winter when it's cold
Indoor persuits to behold
Bach's  music,the soul to cleanse
Conversation  with all my friends

Better still retreat to bed
A good book to be read
If I'me lucky I can spend
A naked night with my friend

Whenever the Spirit Moves Me

Whenever the spirit moves me,
In an instant, at the drop of a hat,
I’ll feel flow of words pouring down on me,
By the simple things that happen, (snap!) just like that.
The smile of child, especially an infant,
The sight of a couple staring at each other at the park,
When I hear the sincere laughter especially of my children,
Or the sound of my lover’s voice calling me in the dark.
I have no place or time or space or prime,
Whenever the spirit moves me to write,
I just know I have the capture the words,
I have to freeze the moment and seize it right.
I’ve been in the middle of storms and found them beautiful,
I’ve been in a hell of hail of bullets and the sound is paralyzing,
I’ve been in crowded rooms all around and felt so lonesome,
But when the spirit moves me the mood is very surprising.
For hours I’ve stared at the lines on a page or a pulsing cursor,
And been so unproductive or unsuccessful to find the words,
But I’ve been in the middle of a traffic jam or a long boring meeting,
And felt a verse disperse through my soul flying like little birds.
And it’s there, wherever I am that I begin to repeat the words aloud,
In a cloud of thoughts beginning to form a storm of rhymes,
And the lines seem to write themselves like little magic spells,
Writing candidly and honestly about both, the good and bad times.
But if I have to pick a place that’s best for me to nest and compose,
It’ll be the side of my bed in the morning before the thought eludes me,
Especially in the middle of the night, when I know I have to write it right,
Especially if it gets me in the mood whenever the spirit moves me.[/i]

Something Good

I imagine long roads
long days
cartwheeling into nights like your sisters shoelaces when she tripped down the stairs
sunsets across the lake while I drive home on those summer nights
listening to acoustic guitar riffs and my engine stalling;
I imagine driving everywhere any where and no where, and with you too
if you're down for the adventure
bring an instrument in case
maybe we'll make something in between bug bites and bonfire scent
and maybe it will be good this time
yes, something good...
in the midst of our little state

Congratulations Missy, sounds quite serene the lake district, gods country.. Or is that Britain in general.

Thank you all that entered

Hey, thanks Carpe. I needed this little nod.

Thank you.

well done, Missy :)