The Sun Is High!

The Sun is high and so am I – with the golden rays of love,
A rippled sky so way up high – wisps of combed clouds up above.
Late Summer smiles they line the miles – our journey man on the move,
A sacred hour in the ivory-tower – to walk the well-worn groove!

So a welcome then from a fledgling Wren – diving through my view,
A Buzzard cries from sky blue skies – the cloud but morning dew.
So can you hear – the skies are clear – the drifters upon the air,
Sailing the seas – of a thermal breeze – to the west of the bardic chair!

I light the fire like a crackle choir – the rays dancing in the smoke,
The tasting flames they play their games – consumption at a stroke.
The taming heat controls the beat – ringing circles in the round,
In sun wise turns the edge it burns – forked on what is found!

The Wasps and Bees patrol the Trees – cobwebs glinting in the Sun,
With Buzzards blessed in east and west – the calling has begun.
The fledgling tries to make the skies – the hawthorn rests its ease,
The hurried Shrew pops into view – quick while hoping no-one sees.

The time is right to take a bite – a fast is broken with a friend,
The roof is held and words are spelled – a meaning to an end.
The truth of days – go separate ways – with the barring of the gate,
With a breath of air and a word to share – a moment to create!

The Jackdaw knows the tongue of crows – in a multitude of calls,
The Magpie cries as he takes his rise – with a greeting one and all.
Preparations done in the shade from the Sun – still soon enough to pass,
A swirling mix – of Buzzards five then six – an Autumn gathering of class.

With the time in flow before its time to go – three triangles tended clean,
The Earth and Sun and Moon are done and uncovered from the green.
With a neighbours bond he checks his pond – with its willingness to survive,
With a touch of the land he raises his hand – It makes you glad to be alive!

Before I flee the scene – of where I have been – the fledgling hides his cause,
With a chirp of fight he rides his flight – the snowberry bushes for a pause.
As I set to leave I watch him weave – into the deepness of their form,
Safe and sound above the ground – a private shelter for a warm!

As I make my way – soak up the day – I see the rose hips in the rows,
With shells so bright they reflect the light – swelling as it goes.
The wild of rose and all that grows – the hawthorn berries glowing red.
The ranging hills and vision stills – in touch with the common thread!

As I do believe so we do receive – a Deer appears from out of the blue,
A Hind of grace that envelopes the space – as I slow to a stop with the view.
We greet our stage and share the page – as we look one another in the eye,
I feel the emotion no hint of commotion – as she calmly wanders on by!

oOo