When we were young
We began wandering
aimlessly
Through leafy
woodland.
We began when there
were only
The early buds of
spring
Wandering on through
The dappled shade of
summer
And its comforting
warmth
Onward then to the
fall
With its crimson hues
Now we embark beyond
The crunch of autumns
leaves
Into the cold metaphor
Of winters landscape
We still have each
other
But we also have
uncertainty
How much winter will
we see?
Although the sun
Shone high
In the dying
Summer sky
The east wind,
Strong and shrill
Carried in an
Early autumn chill
In the dew fresh meadow
I watch the dawn’s
first rays
Appear to evaporate
the mist
In the majesty of
Autumn days
On the cusp of spring and summer
Hawthorn hedgerows
bloom
And produce their
fruity haws
Autumn leaves are gathering
Golden in the hedgerows
As the sun sits lower
in the sky
Shadows lengthen
across the landscape
Heralding winters
approach
The Christmas star
Festively untypical
Having poisonous milk
And being tropical
But scarlet petal-like leaves
Make them appear more topical
And star shaped flowers
Are more decoratively typical
Bird song abounds like a symphony
Scripted by natures unseen composer
Conducted by the baton of an invisible
maestro
The shrill woodwinds
Of Blackbirds, Finches, Thrush and the Tit
family
While the Cuckoo sets the time
And a Woodpecker beats a rhythm
The breeze moves the leafy canopy
Like vibrant cascading strings
Timber’s creek and strain adding percussion
Rutting Stags and distant plaintive cries
A Fox cry and a Peacock’s call
Waterfowl and cooing Doves
Underscored by the beating wings of birds in
flight
Insects join the improvised symphony
Droning Bees and Dragonfly
A symbol crash as a Duck enters the water
A waterfall adds the rolling kettle drum
Distant thunder booms like a bass drum
And Xylophonic drops of rain hit the lake
While a Swan gracefully dances
Across the water in perfect harmony
God in heaven the impresario
Of mother nature’s philharmonic company
