On the road to……..

Driving over rolling welsh hills,
Trees about to burst to natures first call,
Sheep scattered like early snowflakes on emerald fields, As I gaze upon sun drenched grass bellow,
White windmills on the horizon turn majestically, Spinning silently in my view, Whispering on sea blown winds,
And down the sides of this tumbling valley, Studded with rocks and misplaced gauzes,
The gothic church lies at its bottom,
Still and silent in its recall of history seen, Houses standing with mossy roofs,
Blend with this sumptuous view,
As it nourishes this tired soul within,
And as I gaze across to the end of land,
Past white stone houses like rows of crooked teeth, Streets of busy cars and diving gulls,
I see the ocean gently lapping stony beaches,
In never ending movement,
Smell of the sea, fresh on spring air,
Blowing white wisps of cloud,
Filling my lungs with life,
Refreshing these weary eyes.

Tulipwood twist pen. More at Bespoke Woods Facebook page.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s