Notes From A Stroll Before Breakfast

By kheldar

Mon, 26 Sep 2011
  • 763 reads
3 comments
 

A solitary flower
White against the green,
Radiant and virginal
Naturally pristine.

A lofty weathered oak tree
Wears a wrinkled skin,
Age is written on its bark
Strength lies locked within.

On the edge of hearing
A huntsman winds his horn,
In counterpoint to baying hounds
Both eerie and forlorn.

A frisky squirrel frolics
Midst branch and twig on high,
Higher still above us both
A soft September sky.

.
Copyright DM Pamment 24th September 2011

Certificate U
Poem
THE WORLD ABOUT ME

Comments

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
This has a lilting, almost lyrical quality about it, David. Very much enjoyed;-) Tina xx

 

Submitted by kheldar on
Thank you Tina, I'm glad you liked it. I wrote it whilst on retreat at the weekend when I was in a very clear headspace. :--) xxx

cool

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
That explains it then...that almost ethereal feeling. I hope your weekend was worthwhile, and from this 'little gem', I would say it was;-) Take care. Tina xx