The Meadow

Good morning everyone!  I was sitting in my sun-room this morning looking at the meadow opposite our home.  The colours were glorious: yellows and greens, dotted with pinks and blues and every colour in between!  Swallows swooped about amidst this idyllic scene, seemingly for the sheer pleasure of flying.  The puffy white clouds against a backdrop of the bluest sky were pushed off stage-right by an insistent wind while stage-left, the next glorious scene arrived.  It was truly mesmerising and I felt so blessed to live in such a healing place.  We live on the edge of a large town, but it can seem as if we are fully in the countryside here on days such as these (in fact, every day).  This is a poem I wrote for summer solstice last week—better late than never.

The Meadow

Meadow-sweet grasses trampled underfoot

Releasing herbal scent-pods

To swirl in our midst.

Summer heat rising –

Shimmering nebula of movement and sound

A symphonic concerto in my mind.

Seed pods acquiesce

Their progeny dispersed

By the languid breeze.

The world is at ease

On this Midsummer’s Eve.

And the meadow shares her beauty

With all.

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