Bluebell frillary
Shoots of Barley on the hillcrest field
Wet dripping barbed wire
Silver slivers of cold Spring light
Through a disorder of branches
A pallet of greens
Smatterings of shade
Brown muddy boots
And from everywhere
Birdsong
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Ditto 🙂 Life after the fludde, GfB…(well, I hope it’s after, and not the eye of the storm!)
Let’s hope so Kate! The sun shines this Friday morn! And I am off to Scotland for the weekend where ’tis raining and a cold easterly howls. Oh well…
Enjoy the trip 🙂
fritillary and pallette? No need to approve this one! Daniel’s free editing service.
Cheers! It’s the way he write things I daren’t change the spelling – these artistic types and all that….
I saw a lovely picture of the English countryside in my mind when I read this one.
I saw his feet with the photo he sent with the poem Andra! Not a pretty sight.
Oi, me plates carry me up an’ around the Irish countryside with aplomb. Why the crowned heads of Europe would struggle for such feet.
12 hours they carried me in the Sierra de Cantabria for that pic….yeah my mountain navigation’s rubbish.
The last line wraps it up really well!
Agreed!