In All Its Glory.

I wrote this from the English Lake District a couple of years ago whilst on a long weekend break. A beautiful site and inhalation of senses.

 

 

The Green static caravan stood high upon a hill.

Overshadowed by the tall ancient trees.

Oak, willow and spruce's galore,

reached high into the sky,

swaying gently in the breeze.

 

The winding path lead to the lake,

boats of all sizes, birds swooping

on the shimmering blue water and

echo sounds, from around the mountain

in the distance.

 

The early morning dawn chorus

awoke me each morn, like

an orchestra giving its first symphony.

Nature in all its glory, green

carpeted spread.

Inhalation and sight, of this wonderous site.

Author's Note

All comments welcome, good or bad.

Reviews

[[untitled]]

what a beautiful poem! It makes me long for summer mornings. It flows so smoothly and the words are almost sing songy. It good. Good stuff hon!!

[Y.F.]

What a soothing poem, filled with great imagery.
I could honestly see the picture you were describing.
It flows really well, like a creek telling the story of a place it flows by.
Truly delightful! :)