Delamere Forest
Rowan is the undoubted king of the forest today,
but I would say, Robin, that the sun gets my vote
as the man of the match;
bleaching out the boles of tall pines,
filling the feathery seeds of splitting pods
tantalizing the thinning edges of shining clouds.
They think they have him caught, but he is off,
running with the ball of light, which flickers through
leaves on our eyes the whole green journey;
though at half-time, eating apples and Mexicana cheese
on a bench in the shade, we stay well out of his way.
Fern brakes are pergolas of light.
Sun has ripened the elderberry, softening its tartness
and offers sweet blackberries to stain
lips with incomparable experience.
Golden gorse captures a close-up of his irascibility,
which flames out in gaps between virid canopy,
glyph-winged like Ezekiel chariots.
And we so sweaty, our thighs chafing
as we reach the car park.
YOU ARE READING
Under The Wings
Poetry.Under the Wings of the Egyptian and world-wide respected Goddess, Isis. Poems of Nature, Inner Resonance and Mythology.
