In the Garden
Listening
to the water,
trickle
the passing
of life
into time
storm
and stream,
whilst above
November skies,
sparkle
with high
crystal clouds
so clear
reminding
of a summer
and morning,
and Spring
as last winter
had once
foreseen
For,
as yesteryear
beneath
the apple tree,
the last fluttering
of butterflies
and leaves,
a blackbird
hops between
the shadows,
of time,
and apples
wrinkled,
autumn red
brown
with memories
of green
As today
there is no wind
just silence,
distant voices
of walkers,
chattering
on the lane
walking
to winter,
upon the softened
ground,
hints
of December
to come
upon the frozen
world,
lost and once
again
and again,
in ice
and snow
to be found.
Feel free to contact me. Be nice to know who my audience is and perhaps you can suggest some further topics or themes for my writing! And do give me feedback!
p1964km@googlemail.com
