Monday, 19 May 2008

Callow Top


Your waiting on the ridge

of Callow Top swaying in

the Holt.


The new Moon caresses

you with a promise

of tomorrow.


The sweet smell of your

blossom enriches me -

enters me.


As the blanket of our open

meadow unfolds for -

us.


In the darkness - snowy

Whitethorn embraces

Laburnum in nature’s

hustings.


Whilst even the virgin

white flowers of Nettles

entice me in.

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