Topic: THE FAIRY GLADE
The Fairy Glade.
By Phill Williams 25/03/09
Before me, a carpet of foxglove, dancing in a sweet scented whisper of a breeze.
Lush and green hang leaves from branches heavy with budding fruit.
While distantly swaying, eyes closed, drinking-in the promise of a glorious summer
She throws back her head, breathing through her very being,
To fill her lungs with the sweetest scent of all...
I, approaching slowly, silently...no quietly
Wishing not to disturb her or the bluebells
The glade is alive with grass hoppers calling
Bees visiting each plant in turn, humming to the sun...
A wisp of cloud; you wont disturb this glorious day
You only enhance, add picturesque beauty to this scene
Away in the corner of the meadow, runs a gentle stream
Trickling over smooth rounded stones, as it has for hundreds of years
It gives an aroma all itself;
Dragon flies, fly
Sticklebacks swim, kingfisher hunt for that elusive trout
It's such a fine day to be walking through the countryside
O! What joy to be blessed by such as this.
Finally; to a gate, wooden, green with age and lichen
Do we do as we did when we were young and climb over?
We decide the gate won't take the strain
So, walking through the gap in the hedge that the cows frequent
We return to the road, looking back at the fairy glade
Which was only a farmers field
But dreams and memories can conjure....anything