Soothingly Good.

 

Soothingly Good.

 

Repetitive cooing of an un-mated wood pigeon

seems so tenderly moving.

An amalgam of voices making dinner-time chat
sounds surprisingly soothing.

Mesmerizingly restful an incoming tide swishing
on stones in covert beaches.

And agreeably pleasant the motorised greeting  
of blooms by afternoon bees.

Rhythmical rocking of rails on fast trains might 
quickly my mind hypnotize.

Resonance trembles from waterfalls dropping

to vibrational silence.

And what of those
somnolent tocks after the ticks by my
grandfather clock
Or the continuous sizzle as near-boiling
my kettle sings on the hob. 

Those crackles from wood on after-work
fires are warmly relaxing
as is the swish of slow-winging birds and
rain on panes making a splash
or Summer's light murmur of night-wind
passing thru slumbering  trees.

Yet none of these soothing rhythms come

near besting the best for me.      

 

The most precious of sounds and gentlest 
are the whispers of sleeping contentment
in your peaceful breath next to my breast