Monday, 23 April 2012

The WILLOWS stand...

... beside the brown churned Avon where Shakespeare sleeps; lime green WATERFALLS of dripping light. Almost overnight, the bare LIMBS of the chestnuts, beloved by rook and crow, fill out with new LEAVES. They flap and  flutter, hanging low like SLEEPING bats... emerald, fluttering, sleeping, bats.

Down the lanes, blossom FROSTS the blackthorn bushes; white and honey sweet.

But here, the COLOURS of spring are waterfalls of lime... and EMERALD sleeping bats..


  1. ...thou hast command ~ of the picture words! ~ shine on ~ with the running sands of time ~ blessed be!...
    ...for to thee ~ a sonnet i bequeath...

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    1. Thank you for your visit and your kind words.
      Gosh, even replying is more difficult than I had thought!!

  3. Lovely. Such rhythm here its beating into my wet Minnesota night.


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