Wild Words

ponderings, poetry and pieces of stories foraged from the wild...

Tuesday, 2 December 2014

Patchwork pastures

Behind the shifting, steel-grey sea
Beyond the cliff-top fringe of golden-flowered gorse
Between the twisted, wind-sculptured thorns...

I saw a tapestry of little green pastures
Stitched together by a thick thread of hedges:
Like a quilt of soft turf draped over
The old bones of a sleeping giant.



Posted by Wild Words at 09:57 No comments:
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