Glentaowen and the Raven!

Morning warms the skin with its eager sunshine,
As the home birds wallow in the gentle breeze!
The sky blue visions reach from horizon to horizon,
With the Songbirds serenading – from early autumn kissed trees!

The Doves and Wood Pigeons quickly scatter all asunder,
As the gateway opens to broker its views!
A Buzzard cries a welcome lost to the invisible,
Desperate to share with an audience – the latest news!

Glentaowen and the Raven eclipsed in the moment,
Escorting a Toad onto pastures new!
I breathe in the vistas as they harbour their memories,
A slice of nature for the chosen few!

The Buzzard climbs a gliding of southern circles,
Majestic on the thermals as light as air!
White fluffy clouds they drift as they bubble,
Riding the tide and do as they dare!

The Fruit they grow plump causing their casualties,
And both the Pear receives a mercy dash!
The seasonal fire crackles with its gift of clearance,
Building up the layers of Ceremonial Ash!

The Dogwood are tamed to redefine an entrance,
After the managing of what was always ‘Utility Square!’
Gentaowen does his magic – with the laying of his carpet,
The Gallery resistant with its extensive weave and put up a fight to be fair!

The fire bursts to life with its explosions of passion,
Fanned by the bellows of nature’s persistent blow!
The smoke it billows – escaping with an air of relief,
While the flames dance high as they lick and grow!

A House Martin jitters as it flutters and flitters,
There’s a Dragonfly flyby – short and sweet!
A White Butterfly ruffles following a different path,
A visual melody to life’s heart beat!

A short stubby Dragonfly moves on extended manoeuvres,
More of a Spitfire than a helicopter show!
There’s a marker left where the Badgers leave their messages,
Next to the Samhain Stone where the Ceremonial go!

And then there was one in the count of numbers,
A sacred hour with my favourite chair!
A dark brown Butterfly – gives a repeat performance,
Capturing visions then and there!

Its late afternoon and the Crows they chatter,
While the whistle of Pigeon wings goes over my head!
A sudden to and fro with a transparent Damsel Spector,
Small and nippy – while all is put to bed!

Sloes – early Blackberries and wild Rose hips gather,
Lining the retreat of my trail!
The white flowers abundant the Japanese knot weed,
Tangles in the hedgerow with fruit for sale!

Climbing up the rise with the sun in my eyes,
I ease on the foot-falls to take it all in!
A contented smile comforts my ragged mile,
Where a Buzzard circles – so let the wait begin!

oOo