A tiny droplet of orange
lands on my hand
as I sit reading in the shade
Looking up, expecting to see a bird closing its bomb doors
I see nothing but the blue
and the surrounding hug of the trees’ canopy
I reach down to the grass
to wipe away the perfect hit
and there this moment expands
A plump bumblebee belies gravity
by bouncing atop the grass
and for a brief spell inhabits my back pack
Beneath almost every tree
bluebells huddle and wave
as a solitary white butterfly says hello
There is a breeze of Mediterranean texture
yet thoroughly English in its philosophy
as blackbirds applaud the wood pigeon’s haiku
As the village clock strikes the hour
I notice there is more litter than last year
and more noise too
Over yonder, where I had planned to stroll
is becoming overrun by sunshine escapists
like a plague of flying ants
I’ll sit here a while longer and read
but first I’ll put aside my thoughts
and stroll to the café for a hot chocolate.
I enjoyed this, Martin! And especially the ending, heading off for hot chocolate. 😋
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A beautiful description of this weekend 💜
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Thanks, Willow 🙂
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💜
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