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Wild Flowers

entry picture

In the blue-green meadow

of my silent soul, 

scorpion grass - 

dormant for decades,

now grows wild and free, 

sustaining me, 

spreading love

for the aching world

to behold its beauty.  

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forget-me-notloveNaturepoetry about beautywildflowers

Guisecliff Crag, August

entry picture

Where the fragrant heather moorland borders

wildwood, by the crags above the river,

the harebells and last fading heads of clover

nod themselves to sleep in drowsy August.

The ling is now full-on and tightly ordered

spikes of tiny flowers blanket over

the landscape like an Emperor’s purple toga

swathed across the heights, but thrice more gorgeous.

The fated grouse may look ...

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Augustgrouseheathermoorlandmoorsrowanwildflowers

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