A local walk I like to think is my own.
How quiet is the forest.
Beside the brook, I hear cracking hogweed, like tiny castanets.
And rustling grasses looking like fairy tassles.
I see illuminating, floating gold dipped seed dust, filtered in ribbons between stately trees.
Scratching dry earth with a hawk’s feather, it feels worn like old leather.
How quiet is the forest.
I am walking through the tree line avenues protected from roaring warning winds.
Brittle branches are torn away landing like arrows ripping into the land’s heart.
Leaves dive and dart, grasses like babbling streams.
Leaning into an old gnarled tree, I look high into the patterns made by silhouettes of leaves.
What will I dream of…
https://lavendermoongirlsbrownharecottage.wordpress.com/
Please click on the link to read my poem inspired by my recent ramble.
I hope you enjoy my post. The weather has been warm so we’ve been exploring our woodland pathways. As ever, I am inspired so much by my walkhs in the surrounding countryside whilst enjoying the company of my dogs; sometimes joined by my husband and friends.
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Slowly the leaves are crumbling under our feet or rotting into the ground, the cold snaps will return soon and autumn will be forgotten. In the studio I simply aimed to draw and mix the colours of the leaves which tumbled from the sky.
I hope you are all well. In the UK many of us have the home fires burning, casseroles and soups bubbling and we’re rushing about. I treat myself to Echinacea tea with a spoonful of local honey to keep colds and sore throats away.
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Serene Snowdrop,
Small heart translucent face,
Peeping shyly through downy lace.
Awakened by a sour biting breeze,
Which makes her cower, she
Curls up, sheltering under boughs
Of mighty beech trees.
Suddenly a shower of frosty crystals
Adorn the mysterious, tearful princess,
Crowning her with a spectacular tiara
As the dryad minstrels play their lyres.
Spring splashes
Between weary evergreens
And lean stretching trees.
A golden brook of
Daffodils lyrically babbles
And violets hide in every nook,
Adorning the woodland floor.
Spring’s door has gently opened,
Surprising us and giving
Hope.
Yesterday, even though the sunshine didn’t manage to peep through the clouds, spring’s door had opened with its perfumed breath. Joyously, we walked through an old Victorian park in Bedford, chatting and taking in the splashes of emerging colourful buds and flowers. It was a beautiful day. Thank you nature and thank you friends for putting up with me diving about taking photos. 🙂
Limbs of whimsical trees
Stretch and seemingly sneeze,
Retching in the icy breeze.
Through arches of Larch,
Over finials and pinnacles
Starlet particles dart
With elementals,
Soaring into a roaring
Tourmaline wintery
Infinity.
Lavender Moon: Artist, Poet and Lover of Nature 
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