Thursday, 3 May 2012

Canvass of Green and Gold

Looking out on the fields of gold
Trees hang over the green of old
Sun shines itself through broken clouds
Old shack is placed against the mountains so proud

Looking as far as the eye can see
This is where you came to me
Flying amongst the birds of grace
This is a wonderful magical place

Rustic colours fit into the isolated ground so bare
Walking along I come to a wooden seat chair
It gives me a breath to take some more
As bluebells stretch out there every where

As I walk there is more
Wood is barely hanging onto itself
Been bitten to a mare shape of nothing at all
I must keep going must not stall

When along comes a beautiful swan
To brighten a more wonderful day
It comes right up
To peck my fingers away

It is not shy
It has flown down from the sky
Head hits the water
For a drink

As my journey takes me away from this place
A man is sitting painting on his canvass
He is painting the pond as the trees hang low
As the fields of gold
Replace the green grass below 

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