The Golden Shimmer!
Mylo Tup

The weep of the Willow bows a morning welcome,
Dripping its leaves in the autumn sun!
The glisten of the dew – freed from the melting frost,
Still crisp in the shadows where the hedgerows run!
The reflective puddles with their blinding shimmer,
Rippled with their seasonal – veil of ice!
The breezes at a standstill – below a vibrant clear blue sky,
Casting a glow of energy that feels so nice!

The running rhythm – of the meandering stream,
Serenading the morning with its trickling flow!
A smattering of Pheasants – wander hither and thither,
Weaving through the fields full of scenery – as they go!
A flock of inquisitive Wood Pigeons take the seasonal tour,
As the fidgeting Crows they Caw their call!
I leave the road – wading through a patchwork carpet of leaves,
Their harlequin colours – lying abandoned where they fall!

Time stands still as I move through the gateway,
Where Robin greets me – as I step inside!
I wander of the pathway to relieve of my backpack,
Notebook in the pocket with a casual slide!
I watch the rays of light – highlighting the dance of the dappling,
Through the Silver Birch and their golden fade!
Sun beams piercing with their strands of threads,
Engulfing the moment – when nature’s magic is made!

With a turn of the circle – I make my way northward,
The sun-wise cycle along Orchard Way!
As I reach of the north – I am disturbed by a rustling,
Captured by intrigue I continue to stray!
At first there’s a Pheasant – in a panic he scrambles,
Taking to the wing from East to West!
There’s more in the Moon Garden – the old stunted Willow in the far corner,
For what happened next – I would never have guessed!

From the crown of the Willow – appeared a waking Fox,
Taking the disturbance as time to withdraw!
With an elegant jump – it found its footing,
Retiring over the rise – toward sunrise – gone as gone before!
The echoes settle and the peace descends,
And I return my attention to the pull of the Trees,
The golden shimmer of a colour cascade,
A kindred palette of autumn pastels – colours by degrees!

A Raven finds its haven at the back of the borders,
A moment to rest and add a voice to the day!
The songbirds weave – the gathering of overtures,
The solo soundtracks of nature at play!
Enter the Planning and Maintenance department,
With their hands of healing and evolution’s eye!
Reaching back into history – the original circles,
Conceived – Planned and mapped – as time’s gone by!

The Samhain Gate structure – is measured and noted,
Loyally dismantled and tidied away!
Hark – there’s the call for second breakfast,
Bathing in the glow – making a plan for the day!
A fire for all seasons – makes its prototype debut,
A promising performance – in a reliable way!
Left to its own devices – burning safe and sound,
A long lived operation holds the elemental sway!

On gathering for lunch – we watch a Red Kite circle,
Over the Grove before it glides to the West!
With an extended ponder – I enjoy my cheese and chutney,
While marmalade sandwiches – serve others best!
With a check on the fire – we gather our thoughts,
So happy just to be in the sun!
The work party scatter to make the final preparations,
For the next job that’s to be done!

We gather together – with the defining of north,
To add a sense of permanence to the Bardic Chair!
Admiring the Lichen on a large seasoned slab,
We start at the beginning – removing the turf that is there!
Matching up the guidelines – tending to the levels,
Laying a fine bed of gravel – to hold our old man-made stone!
Positioned flush – against the Holly bed boarding,
Forming a foundation – a plinth fit for a throne!

The Snowberry bushes – they blush and swell with fruiting,
Hand in hand with Mock Orange – they tip-toe into the shade!
Running around the circle – like a curtain for the Moon Garden,
Through the Clematis archway – history’s spiral made!
Pheasants call in distant voices – in panoramic points in time,
As we contemplate options in the shimmering glow!
Robin picks through the crumbs – as he retreats and returns,
With a flurry of flutters – the picnic bench hosts the show!

Stray lanterns are gathered – in the course of a wandering,
While the Wheat bed framework goes to sleep!
Restored to order in the hands of the professionals,
Left open to the elements and winter’s deep!
As time moves on we contemplate the timetable,
Taking into account the setting of the sun!
There’s a final moment with the fire – before one and all retire,
Not all is lost – as we beat the frost – with another visit done!

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Sparing a Thought!
Mylo Tup

After the rains – the dawn it comes calling – the light creeping out of the dark,
The sun it climbs – as the morning shines – let the pilgrimage embark!
The sun seizes the day – chasing the clouds away – brightening the weave of the trail,
Dispatched with Mrs Glen – with a kind delivery once again – bringing in the fine detail!

Alighting at the junction – our paths in conjunction – following the cracks in the road,
The sound of casual banter – gripped with anticipation – with each burdening their load!
Stepping through the curtain of nature’s shade – where the greeting Elders grow,
Swaddling of the gateway – secluded from the byway – where destination comes to go!

Due diligence smiles with the care of the Gate Keeper – painting a picture and setting the scene,
Warming a welcome in the autumn sun – with a nippy breeze that’s a trifle keen!
Wrapped in the comfort of season’s turning – we settle with the flow of the day,
Soaking up the atmosphere – within the crystal clear – forging a connection in a natural way!

Come the ending of breakfast – in the throes of a shiver – the lure of the circle calls us in,
Seeking the warmth of the sunshine – we emerge from the shadows – a welcome touch to the skin!
In their seasonal order losing their leaves – the Silver Birch dancing in provocative undress,
Lost in the construction – admiration of the Samhain Gate – extending subtly yet built to impress!

Wayward Crows – they fight the windy blows – and preparation divides and shares its chores,
The entrance candles address their windows – sheltering the glow from the windswept flaws!
Robin finds its orders – in the Dogwood borders – tucked in its safety away from passing feet,
With regular to’s and fro’s – a captive audience of shows – catching the action while most discreet!

With the slide of time – we can caress a rhyme – offering a thought in a sombre tone,
Adjacent paths – they warm our hearths – leaving with a chill to the bone!
Taking of a moment the outer way circle – sparing a thought – in keeping with the day,
A private thought for a life-long stalwart – as he finds his rest in an ageless kind of way!

And when the fluffy clouds – they draw the crowds – cherishing a hold of their drums,
The gather of a gathering around the fruit and nut – the wind it this way comes!
Preparation completed with a flurry of touches – with time for the telling of tales,
In the flow its all go – to those in the know – when the ship it sets its sails!

Holding hands with the circle of the Silver Birch – we settle with the energy of the Trees,
With a heartbeat pounding – we feel our grounding – relaxing at one’s ease!
Sharing in the melodies – the rhythms of life – a collective unity shared with the band,
With the wheel in motion – a tide on the ocean – holding an island in the palm of its hand!

Sparing a thought for the Ancestors – we choose our words – with the flickering of our flames,
For the seeds and threads of our history – and for those we know their names!
The golden shimmer of the autumn yellow – the Silver Birch they dance in the sun,
The ripple of leaves raging – like a fire of tongues – beautiful and mesmerising to everyone!

Entertained by the Elements – with their seasonal party – we sweep the cobwebs away,
The dusts and the crumbling’s – of our random bumbling’s – into the past where it asks to stay!
After the calling of the cauldron – we count of our blessings – with a little one on one,
Sharing the moment with the Ancestors – as we’d like to think it’s done!

The circle draws its close – with a final lantern – and we huddle round the fire,
With the drifting thoughts – of memorial sorts – we respectfully retire!
A collective in transformation – with the adding of layers – as the light it starts to fade,
Returning the Grove to its former glory – while the flames burn on with the connection made!

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The Flickering Flame!
Mylo Tup

In my meandering of footprints – I watch the Pigeons tumble,
Taking of their turns – a pair on display!
The morning sun shimmers – on the hedgerow weaving songbirds,
The early autumn winds rustle the trees today!

The Bare brown fields – shoot with blanket winter greens,
Surrounding the soothing trickle of the crystal stream!
The Crows they circle – riding the passion of gust-full breezes,
Before I make my way to the entrance gate and vanish from the scene!

Gathering the presents from the offering Fairy,
A supply line for the ‘Planning Department’ – and I slowly step inside!
A lantern becomes a glow – taking centre stage within the flow,
A flaming candle of memory flickers – with the circle as its guide!

There’s a distant Buzzard with its herald calling,
A fanfare serenading – as I settle my rest in the chair!
I take in the moment – untangling my wording,
While memories run amok at the fayre!

Hunger grumbles paying homage to breakfast,
I complete my circle and come to rest in the sun!
The smoke sets sail – before the smoke rings trail,
In the buffeting of wind-wise – when breakfast is done!

Company gathers with the amassing of numbers,
Catching up with edited highlights – the tellers telling tales!
The painting of pictures – the building of structures,
Contemplation decisive – defining roles – balancing the weight of the scales!

The Holly bed fascia goes up in the world,
With the consistent colouring of sympathetic boards!
Tucking in the corners – securing the borders,
A Thistle fed supplement – to share with the hoards!

Images collected – at timely regular intervals,
Following the time-lapse story – for a gallery’s fate!
There’s a dance of the Dragonfly that leads us to lunch,
With an echo of harmony – where one and all can relate!

Disturbing the Spiders – fast asleep in the tool shed,
For the green speckled step-ladder – standing to attention at its end!
In the briefing of a moment – we define fixtures and fittings,
While Squirrels squabble beyond the gate – a racket to comprehend!

Slide by slide there’s a gutter forming,
Catching the rainfall from the view of the sky!
The Honeysuckle haven built for convenience,
A shelter from the elements – to pause in the dry!

All of a scuttle – sails a persistent Red Admiral,
Fighting the currents past the picnic bench – where the busy come to rest!
A pair of Raven’s circle with a pair of Buzzards,
Inter-weaving circles – sharing a time of peace – a vision for the truly blessed!

The Strimmer undergoes its back to work medical,
After a service – with the people who heal!
Replacement parts – help to perform the arts,
With its head spinning round like a wheel!

The Holly bed Thistles – draped in bells and whistles,
Serving up a fresh banquet to eager faces!
To save the need to reach – where perimeters breach,
Through squares of air – in the Northern most places!

With the gentle clearing – of past fire-pit remnants,
There’s a rude awakening for a snuggled Toad!
Safely escorted to the Butterfly Garden stumpery,
Vindicating caution – for the fire-starter and his load!

We watch the flames – returning to smoulder,
Steaming the moisture from the dregs of the weeds!
In explosive chains – lick the tiny flames,
Flashing in crescendo – given the air that it needs!

Robin makes a grand entrance – looking fit as a fiddle,
Well-tailored – resplendent – in traditional dress!
In a fluttering of wings – inspecting all things,
Before retiring from the public – to a private address!

With the winding of the sun-wheel – our day nears its ending,
And we share in the memory – of the flickering flame!
With our pack away complete – we make a subtle retreat,
Down the enclosing of the expanding road – and off to whence we came!

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Equinox Grove! – Part 1
Mylo Tup

In a casual wander – we appear from yonder – to the secret garden through the gate at its edge,
A Pheasant weaving slalom runs through the Sheep next door – diving for cover under the hedge!
There’s a sky in painted grey – hanging heavy over the day – shaded layers inviting the rain,
Serving up a starter – with a fine drifting mist – in and out of vision with a brief refrain!

The fruit pickers busy – while the trees dance dizzy – flowing with shudders of forceful breeze,
The circle circumnavigated – a tour in the round – putting the mind at its ease!
In sweeps the rain – preparation is tentative – held in suspension – elemental Russian roulette,
Seeking the sanctuary of the dry of the shed – contentious murmurs whisper of solemn regret!

Robin bobs and potters around the base of the Dogwoods – a constant fidget avoiding the drips,
Its leaves a shimmering – like a cascading veil – plucked by the melody of finger tips!
Drumming out a rhythm on the ridges of the roof – hypnotic patterns and we drift away,
With an early lunch – we’re a quiet bunch – out through the doorway I watch the Robin play!

There’s a growth to the gathering – the arrival of Paviland – stepping in between the showers,
Relating to colours with a kindred smile – defying the build up to supply the rain for hours!
We await a turn – betraying the forecast – catching up on stories with a tell of the tale,
There’s a return of the mist – before it starts to persist – engulfing our corner of the vale!

Bowing before the seasons autumn rainclouds – settling in for the rest of the day,
The collective gathered – concede to the elements – with Plan B motioned to lead the way!
Seagulls calling with their exclamations – faded figures through a misted sky,
Heeding the call – we retire one and all – to raise a toast of Mead before we say goodbye!

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Equinox Grove! – Part 2
Mylo Tup

Welcome to the morrow of the day before – and we wake with a clear – sky blue sky,
The sun is blazing – melting the glisten – of the first and gentle frost – patch-working by!
The songbirds vibrant regaining their energy – crisp in tune as I come to pass,
A safe sanctuary of trees – with their early turning leaves – casually guarded by the frosty grass!

I see a bright white V formation – rambling south in migration – jostling for position in the sun,
Twenty or thirty individuals – working the airflow collective – on a trail the timeless have done!
The surrounding brown contoured fields – hinting of carpet greens – appearing to be at rest,
The stream it trickles – slowly at a whisper – heralding the arrival of the moment’s guest!

Plumping purple black – the Blackberry hedgerows – heaving with berries an impressive display,
Inter-woven with Rose-hips and Sloes – mesmerising as my journey flows – all in a sunshine day!
I shade into shadow as I near my entrance – I hold my breath and step in through the gate,
Lush and green the welcome carpet – where the start of autumn tickling’s offer surrounding’s fate!

Finding a grounding – I sail the Orchard pathway – leading me to settle at the Bardic Chair,
The shade is punctured with beams of shining light – and I feel my presence truly there!
The seasonal viewing within a timely sun-wheel – a familiar vision that feels like home,
The Crows come and go and the Pigeons show – leaving the peace for the Robin to roam!

I complete my circle and meet the sun in the south – in every sense of the word,
We follow a swallow – where a smile fills a hollow – what a truly splendid bird!
White Butterflies flutter – with a shudder of excitement – riding the swirling breeze,
Soft and gentle – the living ornamental – drifting through the form of the trees!

As we soak up the rays – an Emperor Dragonfly – lands striking a parallel close to our feet,
Such a delicate wonder – what a spell to be under – a close up and personal meet and greet!
The rain washed fruit – paddle in their bowls – beneath the light and dark of autumn’s sky,
Returned to former glories – told in former stories – with the table and the altar standing by!

With the will of the wishful – the naked features are dressed – ahead of schedule the lanterns burn,
The participants gather – in the footprint of the roundhouse – and the circle starts its turn!
We follow the flame as the chiming’s ring – floating on the air where the melodies sing,
Silver Birch companions calming all to their rest – with a grounding kind of thing!

With the balance at harvest – we honour the apple – a thread you can see through time,
The Crab Apple Tree and all her descendants – a living life-cycle in its seasonal prime!
We are all an apple in the womb of life – descendants of our own personal tree,
Descendants of our Ancestors – a link in the chain – forever more shall be!

Dragonflies put on a celebration reception – for our retirement at the end of the close,
Emperors stroll – and smaller browns patrol – helicopter fairies in sweet repose!
There’s a twin Raven salute – with a joyful fly-by – to hold capture of every gaze,
Winding in the time to allow preparation to dissolve – before waving people on their ways!

With the Grove to myself – I return to the Chair – under the onset of white fluffy cloud,
Subtle is the skyscape – painting light and shade – with the elemental forecast to draw a crowd!
Moveable layers drifting in different ways – like a palette of smoke in whites and greys,
Manipulated by the strumming run of the thermals – rising in random and upward ways!

In time I feel the need to re-gather my backpack – with places to go and people to see,
I take one last look saving mental imagery – filing it safe so warming the memory!
My footsteps patter the cracks in the road – taking in the stillness of nature’s peace,
I move on down the trail in quiet contemplation – and on to where my journeys cease!

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This Lughnasadh Gathering!
Mylo Tup

Overly dressed – in a many layered swaddle – greeted in the mid-morning sun,
Wearing the weary – with the usual lack of sleep – I linger in silence the deliverance run!
Anticipation’s arrival – leads the winding pathway – covering the gateway in shade,
With a scurry of an entrance – relaying supplies – closing the gate a connection is made!

Wading through droplets – sheltered in ankle deep grasses – on the roundhouse trail and beyond,
Unloading the backpack at the old picnic bench – where the Butterfly Garden and gallery bond!
Breathing in the moment – it conjures a smile – contentment settles with a slow release,
With the warmth of welcome – inviting the peeling of layers – in a relaxing pool of peace!

The Earth’s Discovery leaning – laden with apples – in a bow to the southern Oak,
The Orchard swells – with its abundant clusters – tucked under their leafing cloak!
The Squirrels leave the debris – of Almond Tree sorties – dotted around the edging stones,
Nut shell fragments – left in random patterns – seconds are singing in multiple tones!

Enter the Emperor – the King of the Dragonflies – moving in circles on the delicate wing,
Scouring the Dogwood – with its buffet of insects – it’s a truly – many splendored thing!
The Wasps and Bees – they network the trees – checking out the fruit with the Flies,
A blanket of cloud – drapes a shaded shroud – before the sun climbs the highest of skies!

Camouflage Butterflies – weaving in their flutter-bys – pausing at the pink and white Clover,
Random are the Whites – that flitter in their flights – rambling around like a rover!
The Finches fidget – in their raiding parties – twittering excitedly while out on the move,
A Red Admiral comes to rest – at the sun triangle pinnacle – chilling in the groove!

Second breakfast descends – with the gathering of friends – around the picnic bench in the sun,
The breeze it comes and goes – with its casual blows – sharing in the fun!
The Swallows swoop – in their sparse numbered group – weaving performance lost in time,
With a preview of our wording – we echo the threads of sentiment – compulsion is to rhyme!

The Doves and Wood Pigeons – scatter in the margins – a ring of admiration starts its flow,
The Orchard display – with its fruit on the way – the best of cropping we are yet to know!
The Plum and the Pears – covered in their wares – even the ‘Beth’ with its first year’s show,
The Greengage magnificent – with its elegant smattering – the seasons busy in its swelling grow!

The Ornamental Crab Apple – a heavyweight tangle – with its veil of wine red fruit,
Next to its kindred partner – a subtle yellow with a dusting of pink – free-form as to suit!
The entrance Russet and the mystery Apple – form less fruit in the Dogwood shade,
With the first Dogwood harvest – come the depths of Winter – lighting changes will be made!

Thriving on its pedestal perch – the solo Silver Birch – stands atop of the Ancestral mound,
The eight Silver Birch do their thing – where the harmonies sing – standing proud in the round!
Their fungal companion – quietly raising Toad-Stool heads – a precursor to a collection of rings,
A gathering pre-arranged with the damp of the Autumn – where the mist of the fall it clings!

Twin Discoveries mark a future archway – hanging heavy with red Apples glinting in the sun,
With the force of nature it requires attention – the ‘Planning Department’ will see it done!
The Yew and the Elders – fulfilling a Samhain backdrop – keeping a time with the Oath,
Running through the character of Orchard Way – with a sheltered wall of growth!

The Wild Cherries – they lost their blossom early – as their lack of fruit concedes,
Lizzie’s Cox’s Orange Pippin – snuggles with the Hawthorn – where its fruiting slow recedes!
The Hawthorn hedging – has grown though sun-wheel cycles – enclosing the Grove to the eye,
The Holly Bed framework – awaits its final boarding – having been fixed and left to dry!

The Moon Garden Goat Willow – flourishes in the corner – accompanied by the twisted Willow,
From a whip through the years reaching strong and tall – we’ve seen it forming a natural billow!
The Ornamental Rowan behind the Imbolc Stone – one of the first trees planted at the Grove,
Has transformed with the ages with its rooting deep – a fixed point of reference the future wove!

The Snowberries form and plump their snow balls – over-spilling onto the passing trail,
The Mock Orange masses – await their pruning classes – separation and spacing the fine detail!
Clematis tendrils march – over the entrance arch – in need of support against the breeze,
The Moon Garden backed with Alder saplings – under the shade of the Willow Trees!

The Hawthorn ending stands reborn – recovering a scalping to shape the hedge,
The energy of the Willow escorts us to the Beltane Hawthorn – where the ditch it skirts its edge!
On through the Stones – we enter the gallery – where the St John’s Wort it sits in the corner,
The Butterfly Garden – it tires in the sunshine – capturing the attention of the flora and fauna!

The Southern Oak standing furthest South – an established rootstock with its virgin leaders,
The dog eared leaves of the twisted Hazel – sharing tales of its travels with my regular readers!
The Hazel clumps – have come up trumps – early in the forming of their seasonal fayre,
Guests of honour welcoming the ‘Season of the Hazel’ – on this Lughnasadh gathering we all share!

Preparations begin – when the Lanterns move in – all of a flicker the entrance candles glow,
Dressed in order sun-wise – we lay the table – the altar sun-wheel table-cloth – swinging low!
The shell wind chimes – they ring with the times – dancing a symphony strummed by the breeze,
With the flavouring of incense – inter-mingling in swirls – amongst the circle of the trees!

Earthen coloured Dragonflies out on manoeuvres – joining the gathering at the roundhouse door,
A notion of a motion sparks the old Sun Lantern – taking up the trail as we have done before!
A repeated chime it leads a melody – weaving round the corners and circling rings,
The rhythm of life it echoes – finding firm its grounding – engulfing the heart as it sings!

We honour the Harvest with a toast to the Ancestors – with wheat bed threads of gold,
There’s a ceremonial Harvest with a trusted sickle – beheading a wheat crop to behold!
We swill down a seed with a mug of Ale – a fermented brew from last year’s grain,
Honouring the bed – we break our bread – consumed in contemplation with the ancestral chain!

Distribution follows – with each in turn – the directions covered – each and every one,
The Hazel honoured – as we teach so we learn – basking in the heat of the Sun!
As a small Wasp finds the Mead – with a will to succeed – we come about to the close,
Flagrant smiles – reach for miles and miles – a contented retreat where the passion flows!

We return to catch the back stroke action – a larger Wasp it swims the Mead,
The lifeguard swift and springs to action – drained and rescued guaranteed!
A Raven calls – attracting spotters – lost in the cover on the far side of the Willow Tree,
Its happy to chat – as we restore the Grove – and we leave the Raven be!

As a farewell parting it circles the rise – cronking and honking its last goodbyes,
The Sun peeps bright from behind a fluff of cloud – and the Raven is off to roam the skies!
We watch Butterflies ramble – Wasps and Bees take their gamble – as we retire through the gate,
There’s an unplanned sacrifice – as the Mead hits the road – with a smash that wasn’t great!

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The Day We Made the Bed!
Mylo Tup

White Butterflies waltz – around the Bramble flowers,
While yellow rosette Thistles – climb in canopy towers,
So shapely and elegant – inviting me on my way!
Gathered at the junction – rolling with the bumps,
Wild daisies dancing – roaming in their clumps,
The sun-dripped petals in their mesmerising sway!

Silence is golden – where the stream runs dry,
The melt away clouding dissolves against the sky,
The Sun hides from shadows – with the cooling of their shade!
Breathing in the air – pausing in the moment to really feel it’s there,
Wheat blanket drifts and their silken flow – shimmering in the glare,
Awash with motion – swollen golden seas – the laws of nature on parade!

The reach of the hedgerows – engulfing the senses race,
Enclosed in thought lavished on personal journeys – with the sun upon my face,
Swaddled in the sanctuary – beyond where the eye can see!
Shadow guides the traveller – beckoning is the gateway of light,
Swinging into action – the thrill of attraction – with its Doves in flight,
Weaving through the fronds of welcome – to where one can truly be!

Aging with regal majesty – shy of a decade and yet drawing near,
A blank canvas painting saying – we are here,
Offering a peace with a blooming heart!
The seasons are sculpted with the plants and trees,
Capturing the flow of a microcosm with the Birds and the Bees,
Honouring the Flora and Fauna – the spiral of infinity – framed as a work of art!

The sun shines bright and there’s a pregnant glow,
Sharing in the glory of the swelling – that the fruit trees show,
The colours of beauty – flowering in vibrant spells!
The Butterfly Garden dresses for the occasion in its finest veils,
With red hot Crocosmias underpinning – billowing Buddleia sails,
Where Peacock Butterflies dally and the Red Admiral dwells!

The ‘Planning Department’ gathers with second breakfast’s rule,
Formulating a running order – deep within the Moon Garden’s cool,
Sharing in stories and catching up on the news!
The Lilies flower in tandem – flanking the entrance of the Clematis arch,
Near to where the Mock Oranges ramble – with the Snowberries on the march,
Collected in visions – gathered in a range of views!

Convenient for a convenience – wrapped in Honeysuckle forever more,
The building blocks – they confirm a footing – laid out on the floor,
Lovingly crafted and tucked into a concrete bed!
A seat to watch the stars – on a dark winter’s night,
Or a port in a storm – in the day it fills with light,
For going through the motions – when all is said!

Lunch comes a calling – on the back of a low Buzzard glide,
From east to west – where it comes to rest – finding a tree to hide,
Blending in the verges to a distant trail!
Small brown Butterflies in their multitude – bowl me over,
Weaving a network with the white flowered Clover,
When a Damsel fly – encounters by – cast in its intricate scale!

Plans are afoot – construction looms for the bed of Holly,
Preparation perfected over time – the whole thing starts with a silent volley,
Moving back and forth – redefining north – under the Bardic Chair!
Seeking the centring of the wheel’s gentle curve,
Measuring out the fixing points – with a board of fine preserve,
Firming in the posts – to serve as hosts – raising the bed for the Holly to share!

With echoed calls – two Buzzards circle – so high above my head,
The sunlight sings – serenading rings – returned are the tools to the shed,
A foundation fixed and formed and left to dry!
In added time – I contemplate my rhyme – as we take the guideless tour,
Sight-seeing sectors predetermined – following our footfalls as ever before,
One last transit around the outer circle – and it’s time to say goodbye!

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Hot – Hot – Hot!
Mylo Tup

One by one – two Buzzards circle – above the tangled verges,
Crying a morning’s welcome on a thermal rise!
Weavings of knot-weed – waft their pollen – in white flower trumpets,
Seducing the Wasps and the Flies!
The ploughed brown fields – reaching up to the foothills,
Swathes of shadings scored across the clay!
The Hawthorn hedgerow rambles by – as the wheat pricks up its ears,
With all encompassing – engulfed within the silver glow of the day!

Twisted trees – cast their morning shadow,
Over the dry bed stand-still – of the babbling stream!
The songbirds sporadic – zig-zagging back and forth,
Even the Crows – they scarcely show – as the Sun turns on full beam!
The Brambles flowering wildly – like a web of lace,
Palette painted variants – of pink and white tones!
Entering the seasonal tunnel that embraces an entrance,
Feeling the anticipation – deep down in my bones!

Wood Pigeons scatter as I enter the gateway,
Two Meadow Brown Butterflies – offering a welcome – fluttering in flight!
House Martins party – throwing solo swirls and each in turn,
An away day holiday at the House Martin Campsite!
Sweeping in swoops – in their half dozen group,
In the southern corner stands their favourite tree!
I’m distracted by the vibrant golden yellow – of the St John’s Wort flowers,
With the first of its early bloomers – bursting free!

Robin investigates the hedgerow to our outer reaches,
Guiding the journey around Orchard Way!
There’s a flash of electric blue – pinging into view,
With a wisp on by – skits a Damsel Fly – gleaming in the sway!
The air hangs still – on the breath of will,
A precursor to the glory of the Sun’s highest climb!
With growth in abundance reaching for the skies,
An age old gift fermented – in space and time!

The purple ornamental Crab Apple Tree – sharing a transformation,
An elegant growth spirt of blushing shape and form!
The Pears and the Plum – show a healthy fruit potential,
Even the Greengage is eager – quietly soaking up the warm!
There’s a positive note for the twin Discoveries,
Forming an early framework along Orchard Way!
The Wild Cherries bloom resplendent – in the freshest flush of greens,
The Primroses rest – around Lizzie’s Orange Pippin – with her forming fruit on display!

The Almond stands steadfast – with its wealth of purses,
Dealing with slight imperfections – nipping red at the leaves!
Well dressed and tended is the bed of the Dogwood – prepared so well in advance,
Covered in a network of ring round fruit cups – where the berries swell with ease!
The contorted Hazel hiding its modesty – under cover in a deep green cloak,
So widely travelled both home and away – before retiring to mature – taking pride of place!
Pinpoints of colour contrasts – highlight the lure of the Butterfly Garden,
The Red Hot Pokers and the vibrant yellow Iris – the Comfrey clusters and the Buddleia race!

There’s a many seasoned growth – to the strength of the Yew,
Evolving with the pages of our history and turning Sun-wheels past!
The Elders newer – to complete the scene – they flourish well within the green,
Flanking astride the triplet – of the Samhain bed – a bonus feature for its timely cast!
As a backdrop to memory – close and personal – creating a sheltered pool of peace,
Zones within zones – on to where I rest my bones – where the Holly bed lays bare!
With the raising of the land and its finite borders – the replanting draws ever near,
Lifting the roots above the water table – for a Holly hedgerow – to be planted with loving care!

As company gathers the lanterns are readied – while the entrance candles refresh their glow,
Second breakfast convenes in the Moon Garden – sharing in the cool of its shade!
Collective memory enhanced – with a few seasonal choice phrases,
Reflecting sun-burn tales – of old Pilgrimage trails – distant journeys fondly made!
Recounting the rise and fall of the miles – forever wrapped within kindred smiles,
‘The Planning Department’ walking in circles – in honour of the Plants and the Trees!
Surveying the environment – cementing future planning,
Discovering unknown Butterfly species and enjoying the bugs and Bees!

Preparations done and we lay our table – under the burning of the Sun,
With a chiming rhythm – guiding gathering’s focus – following the calling of melodies flow!
Cycles are circled in timeless motion – settling to rest with the Silver Birch,
Heralding the arrival of the Sun’s highest climb – and he’s putting on a show!
We stand with a view – with memory of Autumn – gathering the bounty of the land,
We stand with a view – with memory of Winter – where the midnight darkness finds its sleep!
We stand with a view – with memory of Spring – with nature bursting into life,
We stand with a view – with memory of Summer – recalling Summer memories we’d hope to keep!

With the flare of the sunburst – stroking our faces,
In the warmth extending – beyond our finger-tips!
Here’s to the Ancestors and the mighty Oak,
Feeling the heat – as the sweat truly drips!
While the breeze it rests – silent and breathless,
We feel the stillness of the peace in the air!
As we come to a close we find our words are melting,
Relaxing the structure to the touch we share!

Drawn to the shade – a withdrawal is made,
Disrobing in the margins and revealing too much flesh!
The heat is sweltering – with technical indications,
Behold the outdated water – so cooling and fresh!
Come the revelation – there’s a primitive form of showering,
Taking the moment to let off steam!
The body smiles reaction – with the shudder of a sigh,
Catching threads of the breeze – reassuring beyond the extreme!

Pulse rate returns to normal and preparations dismantled,
Calm and thoughtful with trips to the shade!
After the mass migration – I find my lonesome,
I take the chance – to watch the Damsels dance – lost in the moment where memories are made!
Chilling clothes in the shade – I gather my visions,
Returning my necessities – to the confines of my magic bag!
Retiring to the retreat ahead of schedule,
Affording my return – the time to drag!

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The Sun Shines Bright!
Mylo Tup

The Sun shines bright as the gate swings open – a Blackbird bugles – arrival’s dawn,
The invisible chorus of songbirds in hiding – welcoming the Planning Department come mid-morn!
With the beauty of the moment – capturing images – second breakfast favours the mood,
While the sunlit wonders enliven the spirit – the taste of distraction savours the food!

The Pigeons and the Doves – one by one criss-cross above – while the Crows they weave their lines,
Scattering directions – with the Grove as a landmark – sketching out their grand designs!
A Pair of Magpies come down – landing in the north – lost in silent combat with loving moves,
With a cut and thrust – gripped within the season’s lust – listening to the latest grooves!

There’s a sudden blur of flightpath – from west to east – a Duckish looking two-some sweeping low,
A Red Admiral sails – the bed of forget-me-nots – vibrant and sun-shone with its colours aglow!
An Orange Tip tours – the selection of grassy borders – a stray White Campion catches the eye,
Nestled in the gathering – around the old Hawthorn Tree – where the Bluebell’s ramble by!

The Wheat bed defences – see a changing of the guard – as the seedlings raise their heads,
While the bugs and Bees – hover round the Trees – checking out the life in the beds!
The Orange Tip Butterfly – flutters into vision – returning to the lure of the Bluebell wave,
A Small White feasts – on the forget-me-nots – alone among the beasties feeding what they crave!

Lunch calls a meeting in its loosest sense – blessed in the heat of the Sun,
Discussion states its case – in its worded chase – with evaluation said and done!
The Plant Pen trembles with the shortest straw – shaded overgrowth – under Hawthorn’s tall,
The gate comes free – with the untying of its laces – to reveal the tangle of its shawl!

Clearing the cloaking – of the weed growth choking – the plant-life sees the light of the day,
The Walnuts – Rowans and the baby Hawthorns – the Elder’s rooted in a serious way!
Pots of Cowslips huddled in the corner – looking full of life and still in flower,
Goat Willows leaf in the flush of green – reflecting the memories of growth and power!

The Pen stands empty as they form their lines – the Yew and Hazel with one and all,
Quality control sorts the wheat from the chaff – the fire stutters with the smoke’s thick crawl!
Singers in the tree-tops – keep up the commentary – as the plants return to their Pen,
Everything is watered with a well soaked drink – taken from the water butt now and then!

It’s a short back and sides for the bed of the fruit trees – taken down to the height of the ground,
The Almond and the Ornamental Crab Apple twins – appearing in the lost and found!
The fire it smoulders with its sporadic flames – hissing the moisture into steam,
Removing the wire from the Pear Tree surround – revealing the trunk that stands supreme!

There’s a Buzzard bothered by a pair of Crows – before it calmly loses them each in turn,
With a care free circle above the south eastern rise – tucked into the hill without concern!
As we wind down the timing and prepare to leave – the Pigeons they settle in the shade,
The Crows they fluster – as they start to cluster – like privates on parade!

Robin takes a gander to take in the changes – exploration from perch to perch,
Searching through the bounty – under the fruit trees – in and out of the Silver Birch!
Following the pathway that ends at the Honeysuckle – ripening into buds,
Climbing with the weave – with its subtle scent to believe – relocated from the floods!

As it comes to pass – we leave as one en masse – pulling the gate to a close,
Admiring the coverage – within the dappled shadows – where the trail it comes and goes!
The wildflower hedgerows – a palette of pigments – glinting in the light of the Sun,
On past the cracks – that follow our tracks – over the stream and its wandering run!

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Dancing in the Green!
Mylo Tup

Delivered to the junction – by the kindness of Mrs Glen – an excited ramble leads down the lane,
The banter of the stream with its lyrical soundtrack – inhaling the air deep into the brain!
Up over the rise – under the mottling of skies – down where the twisting turns,
The Sun takes it chances – smothered in the elements – the taste of nature the spirit yearns!

Staggering journeys – to pool a collective – standing in unity in the time honoured way,
An entrance – each in turn – with their personal rituals – welcoming the welcome of Beltane day!
Mr Majestic the Pheasant – in all of his finery – gliding across the gallery in subtle retreat,
The Martin returns to his favourite theme park – perpetuating pause before each repeat!

Celebration calls for bread and Peanut butter – slowly and lovingly – soaking up the scene,
Taking in the energy – breathing in the synergy – beholding the swell of the green!
Preparation glows with its finishing touches – the Posy calling – with the formulation of a plan,
Admiring the embellishments – with the dots of flowers – unveiling the colour where random ran!

The entrance candles – they flicker into focus – beholding the dance of the flame,
A warmly welcome – for one and all – standing at the threshold with a future aim!
Taking shape and form – it keeps the busy warm – with everything to put in its place,
Contemplation wanders around the outer circle – heralding the Hawthorn in close embrace!

The Posy grows – with its contributions – lovingly arranged in an offering vase,
The movements assemble – with understanding’s approach – from the snaking trail of cars!
The hugs break out in treasuring friendship – reaching through history – dripping with time,
An assemblage gathering to share in our lunch – with the Mead tasting to tell of – in my rhyme!

The cold wind blows – the Sun comes – but mainly goes – the rain clouds standing by,
So the elements they play – on this glorious day – nicely chilled but keeping dry!
Sharing in the hope of the Greengage fruit buds – so many more than last year’s one,
While the rain stays away – the time starts to stray – until the sights and smells have begun!

The lanterns taste their flame – at the hand of Paviland – incense hangs a linger – reaching tall,
A multitude tango – of kindred burning spirits – casting their light – one and all!
Nature in motion – the flora and fauna – cobwebbed corners dressed in lace,
Seizing the moment when we find our peace – as we sing-fully settle our place!

Dissolving into the evolving of the Silver Birch – planting a footing – gathering in the round,
Weaving in the wind – with the dance of the tree tops – connecting with the ground!
Soothing is the birdsong – as we hold down our pages – elemental passion filling the sails,
Stepping in – three breaths deep – filing a memory for all to keep – slow the Herald hails!

There’s a flicker to the memory of the Ancestral Flame – threatening to get out of hand,
Reaching out with its personal touch – to the lap of the sun bearer – igniting where we stand!
In a beating of the heart – as a burning ply’s its art – before the embers fade and die,
A Sun dance quick-beat in the tender regions – bringing a teardrop to the eye!

We honour the arrival of the Green Man’s seed – bringing forth the melody to life,
Presentation offers with the gift of Posey – in the name of the Hawthorn man and wife!
Mother Earth blushes – with the rise of the oestrum – where two become a whole,
With the balance of harmony – wrapped in a happening – pro-creation completes its goal!

After closing time – we meet the Beltane fires – lighting up the way,
Leading us onward – between the masculine and feminine – brought to light this day!
There’s a lasting scene – dancing in the green – a chain reaction of distinguished age,
An Order in an order – we head for the border – and we tip-toe off the page!

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