The Bumble Bee Parade!
Purple rinse curls of cloud – with painted edges – hovering sporadically like random meringues,
The sun cracks through the crevices – wafting winds – the shade of shadows as the morning hangs!
With the flourishing of growth there’s the warmest welcome – where the Elders fill their space,
The run of Honeysuckle rampant – flushing with flowers – big and bold and in your face!
The nettles dance a sway – in cosy corners – bursting into view to supply Butterfly beds,
Tall and elegant they wave their seasonal spires – around the Hornbeam behind the sheds!
The White Birch and Crab Apples – sing in the sidings – wintering well in the scruffs of the hedge,
The Hawthorn wrestles intermingled throughout the grasses with resurgent plants along the edge!
The canopy beckons in its camouflage leaf groups – draped like a veil from the West to the North,
We step over the threshold – between sleeping lanterns – brimming with pride and moving forth!
Full steam ahead – in the Orchard bed – with the Silver Birch resplendent in majestic pose,
We settle with the creaking age – of the old picnic bench – near where the busy Borage overgrows!
Over in the Southern corner where the dead tree sits – there’s a couple of fidget Long Tailed Tits,
A front row seat for next doors pond where House Martins and Swallows come for seasonal trips!
An unwinding with a wander – where the Apples form a yonder – the Bugs and Bees they dash,
Lush is the flush of the Willow and Hawthorn – Bryony climbs below the strands of an Ivy sash!
Taking advantage of the warm and dry of the morn – clearing the fire place for a cleansing fire,
Burning off the clippings – the undergrowth stripping’s – feel the heat as the flames grow higher!
Lurching back and forth in the gusting breezes – singeing my forearms and nipping my beard,
The smell of the smoulder – works its way up to my shoulder – shirt sleeves promptly re-appeared!
The Songbirds preoccupied – they forget their lines – and second breakfast encroaches on lunch,
The sun shines high – in a cloud speckled sky – lost in the moment we thoughtfully munch!
Hanging each our tales on the threads of words – we share the relaxation afforded us this day,
Wrapped in the textures of déjà vu – feeling the circles of seasonal movement – they pass this way!
The Wheat-bed is tended as I retire to the Chair – trying on its cloak of shelter in the semi shade,
All good news with its wealth of views – the dance of the Foxgloves with their Bumble Bee parade!
The Mock Orange Shrub with its pudding frosting – standing before me like its out on display,
I capture the image in my head and my heart – filed in the Library where memories stay!
By the end of day – where the gathered embers lay – preparation ended when all was complete,
Dressed for the occasion and well in advance – where the pathways of journey regularly meet!
I give of my thankyous as I take my leave – and I pick up my amble with ample time,
Taking in the wonder of nature’s horizontal hems – threading the weave to complete a rhyme!