An Autumn Shining!

What a beautiful golden morning – with an open clear blue sky,
With the brightest autumn shining – a lone Magpie on the fly!
Glistening in the windswept hedgerows – cobwebs dancing in the Sun,
To a backdrop of a seasoned melting pot – as the colours seem to run!

I shade my eyes with the peak of my cap – where the stream sneaks underground,
Below me trails the flow of water – where it echoes out its sound!
From high in the hills it winds its path – from high off to my right,
Skirting the fields with a sense of wander – and on beyond my sight!

Onward I footfall – along the cracking road – over the rise and I am there,
With a scan of my visions – I step off the road – dissolving into the air!
Weaving the path through the overgrowth – slowly I swing open the door,
Unloading my burden – I pull it too behind me – quiet footsteps across the floor!

The solo form of a Wood Pigeon – sat upon a post – behind the bardic chair,
Seeking pastures new as they seem to do – and taking to the air!
Breaking free of my backpack – with the blazing Sun – touching at my skin,
I make my way with the outer circle – feeling the energy within!

There’s a flyby from a pair of Magpies – with the circling of the Crows,
With the dancing in the Willow of the Willow Warbler – singing as he goes!
I take my rest upon the Bardic Chair – as he jumps from beam to beam,
Small white wisps of fluffy cloud – sail overhead – following the stream!

There’s a soundtrack symphony of Pheasants calling – from South unto the West,
From behind me a string of Wood Pigeons trail – as they find the wind a test!
Amidst the scattering of the leaves – a Buzzard cries – behind me in the North,
Circling way up high upon the thermals – with his swinging back and forth!

With a slow of the wind the Kestrel rises – with a hover to his search,
He glides round to the West – out of the North – beyond the Silver Birch!
Dropping like a stone – he descends with a falling – landing upon the earth,
Then it’s up to the tall Tree in the hedgerow – a viewing and its worth!

With the running custom of attention to detail – preparations come to pass,
The central table of a full celebration – with its maker on the grass!
Recalled into the act of service – it makes its way out into the light,
Restored in its standing like a Tigers eye – with its sheen that shines so bright!

Now the Buzzards they are soaring – way above the tallest trees,
There’s a returning of the Kestrel – as they play upon the breeze!
Still the Sun it shines so brightly – with the drinking of the dew,
With the gathering of a welcome – with the collection of the Yew!

Slowly but surely the gateway is dressed – awaiting to receive,
For Yew is for you and we stand back and view – in all that we believe!
The burning of red – the cover of berries – with the red becomes the green,
With the copper high-rise on its banking – to help and set the scene!

A Crow chases the kestrel to deep distraction – as they scramble above the field,
In circles and spirals above the North and West – the Crow is yet to yield!
Above us swoops a timely Buzzard – to display to one and all his clothes,
But another Crow seems to know the game – and the Buzzard surely knows!

The Robin shakes his head – like he’s late out of bed – an audience before a stage,
With a song full of purpose he offers his thoughts – jumping with a rage!
On the passion of the flow on the wind – two Dragonflies joined at the heart,
The procreation of life and a love of existence – a connection to play a part!

With all said and done – with time left for fun – we played around the stones,
With construction planned – we made a stand and worked our flesh and bone!
The corner stone in the South of the gallery – built up a core of strength,
The twin-enders rose before the Holly bed – the orchard pathway and its length!

At the close of play – we had done our day – as the clouds began to grow,
With a greying tint and a show of size – we prepared ourselves to go!
Sharing kindred tales as we set our sails – recounting the history of the Grove,
As we made our way to the end of day – with the calling of the stove!

oOo