Of It All Poem by Samuel Richard Leonard

Brittle little leaves skate across my mind.
A timid wind faintly wins the song of someone's chimes.
Barreling through, whirring, and warring the whimsy of Winter's end,
cars flood, flash and thunder to distract from thawing land.
But my feet are taking me far away to a place of calm and rest
where fountains' cheer and nature, dear, machines cannot molest.
My eyes drift, my body floats across a mellow mere
where I reflect, I introspect and the depths remove their blear:
I won't object to things subject to glaring or gleaming eye,
I choose to see, decidedly, the beauty of all kinds.
Now as I roam the globe, my home, though you may think it queer,
in my heart i've come to know, you know, that all we know is dear.