Poem -

A zing and a zest đź’ś

A zing and a zest đź’ś

Amongst that purple heather, where’re Skylarks sweetly sing

As the moody moonlight masquerades those sleepy birds on the wing

And wild blossoms are blooming bracken, amidst the scatterings of spring

My ambles are rambled with a zest and a zing

I can wander for miles and miles, without a living soul to be seen

There are just some black-faced ewes munching upon the green

And running rampant rabbits betwixt and between

Where yon dampness from the early morning dew is a sheer clean and pristine 

I inhale the clear, crispness of yon cool, fresh air

And soaking in an ambience from the silence that is there

As florescent shreds of gossamer threads, glisten my hair

I am totally at one with my Mother Nature and so beautifully aware..

 

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