thimble berry
pocket stones
daylight tale
and tweedle tones
cedar aisle
birch tree maids
nearby creek
to gurgle praise
flute and string
a granite chair
lupine waltz
in open air
conceive a day
of leaf and lace
a wild tender
tonic place.
We wake, if ever at all, to mystery. – Annie Dillard
image: our Susie Blythe, by De La Vue Photography
SILVER PENNIES 
wow! fabulous…. this poem is tonic.
I loved that poem.
This might be one of my favorites em:)
tonic place takes me there! Love it!