Across the expanse of patchwork fields
A mist lies low,
Like a froth of fungi on forgotten fruit.
The moon's corona fades in the morning light
As pearls of dew hang from quivering webs.
The sun's warmth unfurls sleeping blooms
Which stretch and spread
Beneath the oak's vast canopy.
Trees sway on summer's sombre sighs,
Their branches draped in ivy necklaces
Perfumed hedgerows wear budding flowers
Whilst pink blossoms blush and froth.
And boat-shaped puffs of cloud sail across the blue,
As yesterday's puddles are highlighted
With warm golden beams
As the sun's blaze awakens.
A shimmering heat-haze hovers
Trembling and twitching,
Levitating and dispersing the soft mist.
Of mown grass and honey-suckle
Drift through open windows,
Stretching smiles on faces who breathe
Its subtle scent.
Taking thoughts away from toil
Urging those who smell the summer breeze
To explore and delight
In the great outdoors.
By Angela Barton