
Eric of the Blue Mist
Eric, Eric, of the blue mist,
searching now the hills and valleys
of the Shenandoah, exploring with
your eloquent words your new world ,
leaving the residue of your loving presence
shimmer on every leaf, every blade of grass,
caressing all creatures fortunate
enough to cross your path.
What do you search for, dear Eric?
What secret treasure eludes you ?
You were not here long enough to
find the prize you were preparing for.
We were not with you long enough
to watch and share the joy of your quest.
Eric, Eric of the blue mountains,
We watch the hills and valleys, the mist that
swirls and dances in morning light.
We know you are there, we see the
flowers nod in understanding as you pass,
we hear the sparrows sing their appreciation
for having you as their companion.
They know you are still with us all.
Your mother knows. She watches the mist.
She feels your touch, hears your poetry in the wind.
Eric, sweet Eric of the blue mist.
poeter ~
Jerry Dreesen
~ (Jerry
Dreesdan blog )

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