The Dogwood’s Tangle!
Winding down – the siding windows – with the caress of the wind through my hair,
Stepping into the blazing glory – of the morning’s story – with the company we share!
Headed off at the pass by the Dogwood’s tangle – caused by the evacuation of the bed,
Pollarded well – taken down to the ground – its rooting clusters unveiling the view of the shed!
Snakes-head Fritillaries huddle to the stonework – highlighting Silver Birch unfurling their leaves,
The white Cherry blossom – dances free with the Primulas – wearing their hearts on their sleeves!
The White Daffodils – they show off their skills – shining so vibrant in the burning sun,
Chaffinches and Willow Warblers darting as they play – in their hurried crazy world of fun!
In and out of the skirting’s of the Silver Birch – as they flush in a seasonal dusting of greens,
The Songbirds sing their melodies in a thick woven chorus – enchanting a landscape full of scenes!
With the finest feathers – finely featured in the sunlight – you can’t help but be impressed,
The Bumble Bees – they navigate the Trees – with early yellow Butterflies in search of their quest!
Gathering images befits the joy of the morning – hoping to defy over exposure in shade-less views,
Capturing corners where the dapple it hovers – creating a moment or two that we can use!
There’s a fire formed – despite the heat of the day – taking the time to warm up its heart,
Owing to the smouldering of time and persistence – there’s a flash of flames and a fire start!
We watch a female Pheasant – do a series of impressions – on the rise of the field to the west,
A blending straw coloured movement – taking many shapes and forms – before she comes to rest!
The Dogwood hisses – after it’s fetched and carried – becoming an offering to the flame,
It’s limiting angles – a virgin smothering of pre-cut tangles – a coming of age in Pollard’s name!
On the cusp of lunch we inspect the assaulted Willow – having had its limbs ripped off in the raw,
Splintered and twisted with a total lack of regard – from beyond our borders like never before!
With the care of compassion – in a sympathetic fashion – Glentaowen tends to the wounds,
With a Chain-saw rescue of the damaged wood – reducing risk of infection and calling the tune!
The wheat bed is watered – encouraging spring into action – the rose it brings the rain in a rut,
A tiny element of nature – reproduced by man – the drink of life collected from the water butt!
By the hands of time we reduce our numbers – taking in the moment from the moving shade,
With a tour of perspective – open to possibilities – sharing in the planning long since made!
From a front row seat we watch Buzzard circle with the time and inclination to put on a display,
Lost in awe – with the ride of the glide – a magic moment to compliment the day!
Subtle is its rise as it borrows the thermals – higher and higher up into the sky,
Slowly but surely there’s a discrete retreat – and with a fond farewell we say goodbye!