Wild briar rose,Sun soaked face,
Petals as sheer as fine lace;
Like a dancer on tip toes
Wearing silky pink bows,
Silently pirouetting.
Suddenly a brazen breeze
Brings a helter shelter of
Hawthorn mizzle.
She shelters under a petal glaze
Forlorly marooned in scented dew.
The troubadour seeks hellibores
As his muse,
He visualises a heart wreath made of
Velvet warm petals, meek rose pink
Twinkling flowers and snow whites in fine fettle:
A delicate meander of pattern and colour.
From his medieval stone garret,
He weaves his words of love and valour.
A sprinkling of lavender jewels twinkle;
Periwinkles’ are fairies tools,
Wound on earth’s spindles,
Into wedding bedding
With rose quartz runes.
As newly weds sleep,
Their dreams steep
Together so they are bound
Peacefully forever.
Pop-up pagoda
For the autumnal
Pixie fair,
Prix one rain drop
for a rare night of
phantasmagoric delight.
Trick or dare!
Lanterns flare.
Beware of
The Wixee Lixy’s
glare!
Lavender Moon: Artist, Poet and Lover of Nature 
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