When the green comes again
it's like the start of a new poem.
Beautifully written on the finest of papers.
The bluebell wood walks silently into our waiting hearts
as if she never left.
Far away,
like a longed for lover,
the sea.
With the coming and going of the tides,
a relentless pulling of the moon.
These days slip by
living in the silent streets of suburbia ,
lives behind windows
that I know nothing of.
However this earth will bring again
the wildflower fields
the hum of the hummingbird
and the ancient cry of the gull.
Until then,
we rest.
We dream.
We do.
Todays photo shamelessly * yoinked * From my friend Kit.
This post was inspired by her photo here.
I feel privileged to have had my photo 'shamelessly yoinked' by a talented photographer like yourself!
ReplyDeleteI love your personification of the bluebell wood that 'walks silently into our hearts'. That's how I felt when I discovered the bluebells right outside my door.
How beautifully you write, my dear xxx
They were lovely bluebells too, my dear heart.
ReplyDeleteI loved your photos of them, so gentle and full of new life.
( Thank you for letting me use your photo for this post ( and as ever for your lovely, loving words.)
Have a great week, my darling
Anna
xxxx