A red ball of a sun
sent golden shafts
through the canopy
of ancient oaks; their
gnarled roots
showed above the earth
like a testimony
of their mighty strength.
At the very centre
of a ring of toadstools;
that grew in this clearing,
she stood alone in a gown
of flowing gossamer.
Soon he would arrive
and carry her
to the secrecy
of the long grassses.
His cloak would softly blanket
their lovers bed
as only a voyeur skylark
would hover and witness
a new creation
on the grasslands
of Tranquility.
dreamy scene painted here Ian - - coloured with nature all through is is a delight to read. - - thank you, and welcome back...... best wishes from Fay
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A picture painted with words is truly art! Great poem. keep it up..