Friday, 16 March 2012

Broken Fences

As i walk through fields of gold The broken ground beneath me Smells of old mold Then a waft of lilac hits my senses A beautiful smell Surrounding me are broken fences Trees brush each other Like an artist brush Wind sings silently So quiet is the air Birds take flight In a rush The sky is blue like a crystal sea My heart feels controlled by all that i see My skin feels soft as the sun shines on me As i sit beneath the old oak tree I can hear the river that flows near by I remember walking past the rocks up high As i pick some wild fruit from the ditch The taste it hit me the flavor so rich No water to wash it Do i worry not i I enjoy it juices It feeds my thirst I know i may of eaten worse I hear the animals in the background I can not see them there no where to be found Picking wild flowers from the wet grassy bank Avoiding the tisles the nettles and all Do not want to get stung My feet are all wet Water drops run along my body Its soothing and relaxing against my worn out feet I test the water to see if its cold will i hold up my skirt and walk across it be bold with my shoes in my mouth and my hair held on my face I love this wonderful secret place So here i will sit under this old oak tree And write out some of my poetry the day is long as the sun shines down on me What a wonderful way to spend my time Relaxing my body in this quiet place

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