The Temple Meads

The temple meads are shining in
The sun and their waters run, their
Waters run sparkling to the foot
Of the marble stairs where the
Priestess waits smiling, graceful,
There, her hands outstretched, her
Eyes raised, as if she would
Receive in her fresh palms the
Benison of green earth and sun,
White waters that glistening
Run.  Her red lips smile and
Speak the silence here, her
Golden hair a halo of all
That's fair, her peach bloom is
Warm and light, her slender
Figure tall and white.  We
Gaze in awe at nature's bounty
And its praise, the human form
At place amid its spaciousness
And beauty written gently
On its face.

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