Dog rose scented air.
wedding bells afar.
Harebells & summer fairs
Wild flower champion
The scarlet poppy!
Morning’s dampness on my hands.
I find a torn seam in elemental’s veil;
Ask to enter the precious trail.
Nose wrinkling as plumes of bluebells waft;
Lost in a deep purple blue lake,
Their wizened branches seeking light,
Orange tip butterflies flee with all their might!
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.
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! 🙂
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 misty morn peels,
Revealing sentinels of wintery fields.
Tallow rays, like a sweet mead glaze
Healing: a warming haze.
Treading through the meadow, footsteps as light as a fae,
Amazingly, brightening the day,
A pretty, pixie flower called sweet violet
Appears alone, shielded by the sleeping hedgerow
And wrapped with ivy and bay.
Delicate dragonfly’s iridescent wings like
rainbow beings, flying high in angelic beams;
Dancing with filigree seeds like snowflakes and pearly beads.
Entranced by glistening tears on ‘Old man’s beard’,
Gliding golden speckled skies;
riding the tide of sighs,
Seeking sophorific berries
Juicy as cherries.