golden ripples slowly sway
toward my feet
where awaiting bubbles burst
like humming angels
calling to the setting sun with
each gentle pop
within a swooning mirror
framed by wild grass and reeds
a self-portrait of beauty
these graceful depths
of golden ripples
who slowly sway
Wes Thompson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/written-at-sunset-while-sitting-on-a-sewer-pipe-to-paradise/
