Lynndee LeBeau | Poetry

Taking a joyful turn,

never lost

when there is laughing.

With a pocketful

of summers left,

there is an always here,

a forever warm shine

like sun magic,

and wandering fields

with windy skies.

Holy Heart

And like the merest brushing of a petal,

spirit’s breath beheld me.

Standing in stillness

I heard the softest whispering

of my holy heart’s calling.

– L. LeBeau Pocketful of Summers

With My Joy Wings

The wonder caught me on the wind.

And with my joy wings I flew

over glorious fields.

Delights of this place,

more pleasures on the horizon,

my heart singing away into the distance.

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