Three Rowans!

The morning Sun peeks – through the clouding shadows – painted in their blues and greys,
Rolling their shading across the fields – capturing pinpricks of the light in rays!
The oil seed yellow – drapes a veil of contours – swaddling the hill I am to rise,
The morning chorus with its melodious ripples – radiating outward before my eyes!

There’s a blast from the past at the new siding gates – and a chance to pass the time,
With a former neighbour going back a generation – gathering the threads of a rhyme!
The Crows abscond – as I wander beyond – the watcher surveying the scene,
With a spring in the season – the lusting for life and reason – tender are the leaves in the green!

Stepping through the gateway – where motion lingers – while the season finds its place,
A Hare ambles up the ranging of the southern field – the Honeysuckle fondling its wires of lace!
A disturbance of Wood Pigeons takes to the air – with a subtle moving on,
A Grey Squirrel leaves the circle with a casual stroll – no sooner seen as gone!

Distracted by a Bumble Bee at the Snakes Head Fritillaries – huddled up close to a stone,
Laying in the dew to capture the memory – framing the picture to share on its own!
A Tortoise-shell Butterfly with an eye level flightpath – fluttering by from left to right,
Committed is the warble of the Willow Warbler – in a pitch so clear and bright!

In comes a Magpie to rest in the west – while the Crows fly two by two,
Mr Mallard disgruntled passes over head – sweeping to the east to pass on through!
Gone the Almond Pink in a flurry of leaves – the Fruit Trees blossom in flowing veils of white,
The Plum and the Pair – with the Greengage there – elemental circles catch the light!

On the watch is Robin red – from the camouflage of the Dogwood bed – singing of its song,
The Willow Warbler joins in for the chorus – from the Silver Birch growing tall and strong!
A Buzzard carves out ringlets – with the lift of thermals – with its gliding in the west,
Sailing with the seas – of freedoms ease – soaring with the spirit of the truly blessed!

There’s a call to arms for the ‘Planning Department’ – making an entrance for the Rowan Trees,
Honouring a replacement for the rotten roots – lifted from the water and the winter freeze!
Recovery blooms from the depths of despair – with the buds of hope that come with Spring,
Retiring to the hedgerow – built up in the shallows – what a many splendored thing!

With all in agreement there’s an urge for second breakfast – taken with the joy of the Sun,
Taking in the day with my Peanut Butter sandwiches – where thoughts can be left to run!
Conversation bandies – with observational strands – and relaxation finds its calm,
Time drifts by – with the blinking of an eye – cuddled with comfort and safe from harm!

The Finches come and go in clumps of excitement – washing through the flow of the Silver Birch,
Pigeons and Doves – stringing journeys above – and Robin wanders from perch to perch!
There’s a collective viewing as we do of the rounds – with its many signs of life,
A crescendo of living that varies its cycles – with the quickening racing rife!

Primroses displaying flowers – between their flowers – glowing like lanterns to warm the heart,
With their beauty of delicacy – shape and form – with the potency of nature in all its art!
The Shrubs and Bushes – show the growth that pushes – new shoots swelling with hope,
The hedges come to life – like the blade of a knife – defining the edges of size and scope!

Filling the Barrow with soil – from the circling ditch – for the use of raising Trees,
A Toad comes out to play – with the clearing done this day – a kindred life its escort sees!
With the making of its bed – the young Rowan lifts its head – rising to the top of its mound,
With its companion in pots – planted by its side it slots – in the outer hedgerow running around!

With the three Rowan’s planted – we gather for lunch – to formulate a plan,
We take the chance to visit next doors pond – following the bridge of the man!
Admiring the landscape and the gathering of Water Reeds – with crumbling cigars full of seeds,
With a nod of reverence to the choosing of Trees – understanding the view the viewer needs!

The flames taste the air – burning the clearing’s fayre – a smouldering of smoke into ash,
There’s a fine – fine shower that rides with the greys – thankfully gone in a flash!
Uncovering the Hollies from their winter shelter – huddled together at the end of the shed,
The proposed new site for the plant pen is cleared – counting the Hollies for the Holly bed!

The flare of the fire is tucked in at the edges – feeding the burning heart,
The wind it blows as it comes and goes – rustling my beard for its part!
With wits aroused – the tools are housed – given to the moment its time to leave,
With a cluster of voices – we make of our choices – taking in the Honeysuckle weave!

On closing the gate – we take up the single path of memories – before we go our separate ways,
A Pheasant heads my journey with an arrogant swagger – full of nervous quick displays!
Yellow Hammers darting in and out of the hedgerow – leading me on my trails,
The black and white Blackbird it crosses my path – and I’m off to tell my tales!

oOo