a warm spring
tribes converge,
the forest welcomes
sowing the seeds with love and chanting
flowers bloom with individuality
where's the summer gone
the chamomile and the poppy don't wait
lughnasadh harvest,
missing friends remembered
the wheel turns
when will we all meet again
tribes converge,
the forest welcomes
sowing the seeds with love and chanting
flowers bloom with individuality
where's the summer gone
the chamomile and the poppy don't wait
lughnasadh harvest,
missing friends remembered
the wheel turns
when will we all meet again
Brendan
a poem written for absent friends down under....and printed by us with the aid of a glass or two of local cider.
Sally
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2 comments:
Talking about local cider ...
Roaring Meg at the Inn on the Wye has a rival - The Headless Man at 7.2%
Goodness, that's what I say, goodness!
Fi
xx
Hi again, Brendan,
I loved particularly the lines 'tribes converge', and 'the chamomile and the poppy don't wait' and 'the wheel turns'.
Lovely poem.
Fi
xx
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