Brief encounters
I am resting
on a wooden bench
amidst buttercups
all sun seeking
as I am tooo
midst tendrils
leaf and branch
in part shade
part glare
they turn their heads
not to me
but westwards
chasing light
I wonder
who'd graced
this seat before
perhaps lovers
oblivious of all
except themselves
with minds
wondering
what might be next
I recall those times
not in resolution
nor nostalgia
but smiling memories
a walker
raises his cap
passing by
perhaps he'd been here too
unalone
bees move
from flower
to flower
slim pickings here
a woodpigeon startles
a fieldmouse darts
across my path
children's play is heard
a stride away
but the tender thin
mayfly in its radiant blue
slips past me
legs gently rocking
to rythmns unknown
it's time to move
or should I stay
amidst these glorious
moments
the buttercups gently
move their heads
in acquiesence
to the sun's
relentless pathway
from rise to set
suddenly
shockingly
almost
a hawk
with wingspan
seeming vast
awkwardly
some length
ahead of me
seeking space
midst the beech
and beam
rises to those upper levels
appropriate
to it's station
it's claws were empty
I relax
Poetry by Peter Humphreys
Read 1110 times
Written on 2015-08-25 at 13:55
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by Peter Humphreys Latest textslifethe grey green sea emboldened beyond beyond we knelt |
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