And so I walked

Not bare footed

It’s not quite springtime

Yet

 

I didn’t see a buzzard

Nor did I see a crow

I did hear the birds

Singing

A song so sweet

In my ears

It is still

A ringing

 

The grass has not

Been cut

Still only the scent

Of chimney smoke

Mingled with the occasional

Waft of tobacco smoke

Such is the nature

Of the country folk

 

I spied the first signs

Of springtime

Little yellow flowers

And snowdrops

All standing in line

And, oh my

I can tell you

They do look

Fine!

 

Beautiful black horses

Eyed us

Suspiciously-

On guard

Curious yet nervous

Of our presence

We kept our distance

They did not regard our visit

As particularly auspicious

 

Pica chased the sheep

From the protection

Of the fence

That separated her

From them

They humored her

Knowing it is best

And more fun

To keep up the

Pretence

 

We fed the donkey, grass

Fresh, long grass

From the hedgerows

The place where

No donkey goes

 

I didn’t feel the ground

Snuggled around my toes

Or smell the scent

Of a freshly mown lawn

But I did rest my eyes

On natures bounty

I felt the promise of

Spring

 

I realise now

My creativity

Hasn’t been spent

It’s just doing it’s

Thing

Resting

Waiting

For the time

To re-emerge

As a new seedling.

 

C.K 22