Grey is Today!

Shading is the pale of greys – that have misted since the morn,
Building are the clouds of coverage – that have gathered since the dawn,
The kits of Wood Pigeons swell their masses – as they criss and cross the fields,
Where Blackbirds gather to keep their distance – with songs of taunts and yields!

Dancing to the tune – of the whip of the wind – we pass across the stream,
With the shivering shake of the naked hedgerow – playing on a theme,
So the tower of Crows it brings our nearing – into view around the bend,
With a carefree transition from place to place – we visit journey’s end!

With a settling motion we take up our seats – wrapped up close against the tide,
With a flask full of tea and it’s all for me – The chills are sent to hide,
In the southern corner from the Hawthorn Tree – Robin checks out the view,
With the come and go – of groups of Crow – the mist showers pass on through,

Mrs Blackbird arrives in her dark brown dress – skirting round from east to west,
Kicking at leaves and causing commotion – before she comes to rest,
Through a gathering cluster – of the Bullish of Finches – Robin returns a new,
Singing the lead among a chorus of voices – as there becomes a much ado!

Running in and out between the spray of raindrops – the artist paints the bars,
An ending to the left of the Moon Garden – with the healing of its scars,
One step closer to the window of winter Holly – with the straightening of lines,
Marking the moments along the outer path – where the standing stone defines!

An approaching Buzzard draws in with the rain – from the east beyond the Tree,
Taking up a branch with a rest in the Willow – to shelter there for free,
Our retirement long since found its retreat – as we gaze upon its form,
From out of the wind and the worst of the rain – in the dry and keeping warm!

With the easing of the elements – he faces eviction – discovered by the Crows,
Greeted with a flurry of a botheration – he calmly climbs and goes,
Fading away and out of the territory – the Crow returns to share the news,
An outbreak of a hurry of communication – with a clamour as it brews!

Closing in the weather – greets our up and leaving – at a younger time of day,
The darkness creeps and the colour seeps – in the cloud that heads this way,
A re-wound pathway paints the scenery – with a vision to be seen,
The awakening land to either hand – with the faintest hint of green!

oOo