I would like to tell you about the yellow
flowers that crowd the edge of the meadow.
They are so small, so fragile each one
alone, yet so strong and vibrant together.
They make the blue corn flowers stand proud
alongside, just for being close.
I want to show you where they grow, maybe
stop for a while and let the rich summer smell of the over-ripe grass fill your
head with yearning for the summers of your youth.
I wonder what they were to you?
Then, walking down the lane past the
blooming broom I would ask you to close your eyes.
Then, as evening folds around us, and
leading you gently by the hand I would take you alongside the honeysuckle until
their scent invaded you and filled with you with the sense of a future unknown.
Then, now, it would be time to sit on the
edge of the meadow where no farmer has yet cut the flowering grasses that frame
the slow setting of the almost mid summer sun.
Listen!
Can you hear the silence that waits?
6 comments:
So beautifully written that I showed it to a colleague of mine. who loved it and agreed that the prose is wonderful.
Thanks for taking the time to take us there with you.
Top Five for sure.
Mx
thank you mary, thank you mary's colleague.
remember you can only have five in your top five!
I only have 2 so far, I think. Many, many more though in the photo category, I'm afraid. You are out-doing yourself.
Mx
Gerona again.
poetry and pictures
x
pp4p
Post a Comment