The thought was to play
A play of times conundrum
A plastic of some infinity
A simple moment of glimpse
A grasp of living thought
The lean of the morning tree
Invites a climb to view
Apples autumnal with the sun
On summer oak leaves sunlight
It's warmth on the barn
Coaxes movement from it's aches
Hedges ripe with cool mist
A webbed harvest bush gathered
On a loop of twig
A flash across clear blue
The quick red glider launched
Private as Morley's meadow's green
Their impact a temporary mark
A small and moment limited
As the abrupt cycle traced
The circle onward kept moving
Unspoiling in a determined orbit
Sounds at mornings long light
Words notng the words inexpert
The sparrow chicks day greeting
An Aubade laid by hens
Dew skimmed fleck grass mused
My tea bowls doorstep acoustic
Looking over the dew drench
Whose rainbow always follows us
Me Charlie up the hill
The lime trees scent seduces
Bee sung with its sweetness
Madrigals at the morning sun
The thought is at play
Times conundrum plays itself out
This plastic of still infinity
The simple of finite touch
Grasped and then is - no!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
lovely lime tree thing is awsum dear............. getting.nostalgic ......