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P.H.Rose

Snowdrops at Bridgewater

 

On a visit to Lincolnshire yesterday 

    Driving through to Lincoln 

We watched a low thin fog covering.

  Through mist the trees took on

A silhouette look, bloody beautiful.

     I wrote this quick poem..

 

  Snowdrops at Bridgewater.

 

Across that area of open land

Early morning viewers are rewarded 

The misty milk lays soft and low

Transforming today’s feat of Eden.

A ghostly look, the eye can only see

when casting their field of vision

silhouettes of beech leafless trees

submerged inside liquid cloud.

The river flows it yearly trek

through Bridgewater and beyond 

over centuries old stone and grade

meandering a wanderer’s path.

Rabbit, Hare, Duck and Geese

all drink from it’s ice cold life force 

Bird and Bear, Fish and Fowl

take a seat at it’s breakfast table.

Along her banks a florist of flower

the signal for this time of year

a carpet of white laid all around 

Snowdrops in their hundreds of 

    Thousands.    

                    Norman.