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Same old dock.

Pretty beat up,

missing a few planks.

Same old East River,

it never changes,

but the tides do seem a bit higher lately.

Same old wooden bench,

a two-seater,

the seascape stickers weathered and peeling,

bought on whim long ago at a Mathews market days.

a new cushion every so oftenfor my older and more tired-er backside.

My room.

Not much to look at.

Not really much of a room at all.

But, hush, and sit with me a spell,

if you have the time to spare.

and i will share my

front row season tickets

to the most amazing,

never ending,

rainbow of a symphony

that She calls creation.

A new opus each and every visit.

My green pasture

beside still waters

where He refreshes my soul.

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I love the repetition of “same old,” the description “more tired-er,” the humbleness of the scene, and then the sweet beauty of the ending!

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I think some of my favorite rooms are not rooms at all, but spaces that hold me nonetheless. This poem captures the sense of that when I read it.

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Wonderful...thank you so much for this view from those seats. I too love the psalm 23 reference.

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Beautiful and comforting. Some Psalm 23 vibes. Nice!

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This is lovely, Chuck. I love the pictures you paint with words here. And the psalm 23 inference at the end. Indeed, Earth is the best canvass of all! Thank you for the glimpse from your room.

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Excellent. Thank you. Larry.

I don't get "lovely" very often.🙃

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You really brought me into your outdoor room. Here's adding to your "lovely" count! :)

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I definitely agree with lovely. Even with the repetition of "same old" you can tell there's something special there.

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