Lazily, toe by toe,
Treading on wispy grasses;
Soft silk bed of fresh miniature flora.
Soaring high –
Skylarks, their
Singing lingers like lover’s whispers
Before vanishing through dreamy vapours.
Cow parsley’s filigree fountains
Shower the wake of Ox Eye daisies.
Hazy white petals slightly dazed,
Enjoy sherbet scented kissing wind.
I dream about being in a bluebell woodland,
Morning’s dampness on my hands.
I find a torn seam in elemental’s veil;
Ask to enter the precious trail.
Bare toes tickling on grassy moss,
Nose wrinkling as plumes of bluebells waft;
Lost in a deep purple blue lake,
Looking at the shapes the old oak makes,
Their wizened branches seeking light,
Orange tip butterflies flee with all their might!
Woodland’s serenade fades gently like a breeze;
I take a sip of Titania’s tea,
Finding myself mixing a pool of morning dew
With soothing dainty hues from the bluebell wood
on my watercolour palette ready for a new painting to emerge.
Rapeseed replenishes,
Energises.
Clouds of buttery yellow billow;
Brimstones and Commas drenched
In honeyed pollen,
Wings tilting elegantly
Dancing in sunshine.
Unfortunately those gorgeous delicate butterflies won’t linger long enough! But it is wonderful to watch them.
Rapeseed oil I hear is very good for us, especially if it is cold pressed. It can help painful joints.
Happy Easter all! 🙂
Hawthorn petals
like a lace wedding veil,
torn in a March gale;
sailing on scented winds
like fairy wings-
bringing spring’s tingling feeling
of happy, lingering, sunny days.
This poem is dedicated to yesterday’s International Poetry Day and a celebration of spring.
I’m really enjoying our walks in the countryside around Cople. Each day I wonder how many more buds are out, what suprises are there under the hedgerows: daisies, celedine, anemonies and tiny violets. Skylarks serenade us along the paths at the edges of fields and red kites circle above. Our prize is watching the brown hares running along the furrows and sunning themselves. Such beauty is to be savoured every moment!
The sky darkens
Inkblots spread
Creating ghostly shadows
Swallowing the land.
Creatures hide Iin hollows
As spectral crossbows shoot
Icy arrows.
Suddenly white wings sweep
Across the shadows;
Golden breath blows
A magical rainbow of
Sparkling light.
Billowy fiendish wind sweeps
Sighing leaves from
Wintery willows reaching,
Leaning slender beams
From tender pillows, bending
o’er crispy fire red carpeted paths,
Beside the glistening river Ouse
Silently soothes.
This photo was taken just a few week’s ago on beautiful October day. We often spend our holidays walking along the North Norfolk coastal path with our Border Collies. The Salt Marshes have a wild beauty unique to Norfolk and is a fabulous place for spotting seabirds, wildlife, wild flowers, butterflies and dragonflies. We were walking from Stiffkey to Morston when I took this opportunity to photograph the Creek with the sleeping boats gently swaying as the tide came in. I wonder who uses the jetty? Who built the jetty?
November dark evenings are a good time to reflect on our holidays. This picture also fits Cee’s Which Way challenge for this week.
Enjoy !
When grey rainy days
Seem endless, we mourn
From dawn;
Lingering on lush chamomile edged lawns,
On well worn comfy chairs
Making endless dainty daisy chains,
Retiring to take tea in the tent before feeling faint.
Warm bread slices spread with butter,
Hearts a flutter;
Ripe strawberries gushing with cream!
Forever cherishing our summer dreams.
Have a lovely week everyone. 🙂
Yesterday we had a gorgeous walk in Ampthill Great Park. It felt chilly and I wondered if it would rain, however after a while the sky looked an entcing intense blue, reminiscent of hot July days and my poem was born as we walked!
There are still plenty of brambles ripe and dripping from the hedgerows, the haws are blood red and sloes are growing plumper! I’ve seen a few butterflies and bees, sounding more anxious in their work, before the days get cooler. In the Park are lots of Sweet Chestnut trees, ripe with their spiky balls dangling down. The crab apple trees look the best so I think I’ll be back for more foraging!
Billowy skies like antique grey galvinised pales,
Overflowing with silky butter,
Churning a country tale.
At first light,
Floating thoughts sink into
An inky stillness.
Tiny tapping on the windowsill
Greets us and the skies gently brighten.
‘Bee-ilicious’ colours or favourite ice-cream flavours;
Fine feathering and watercoloured waves
Awaken dreamy seas and clouds tinged with flames.
