poetry & things

Woodland summer

It was only ever flowers in a meadow wild

tangled tendril vines, of blue eyed passiflora

caressing stems of blooming heart, delicate dicentra

shining silver in early summer, a pond of silken mirrors

leafy vines of garland rings, nature weaved

a tranquil scene of bonny swans

float silently amidst fallen petals

soft nests of downy feathers fly

wispy on the winds of days

a woodland summer drifts upon.

Post navigation
Scroll to top