Moodswings.
Bleak smokey grey day,
Mists climbing,descending,
Shrouding the hills, now invisible,
Autumn drizzle,
Or is it early Winter,
Falls steady on the railway bank,
I hear the birds sing,
Tho\' I cannot see them,
Camouflaged in the still green leafed treetops,
Robins bright redbreasts gleam,
In the blackberry bush,
Unseen helicopter flies overhead,
Atmosphere thickly intense,
Simple love nature gives,
Goes missing as new winter dawns,
It is a little too late,
For me to contemplate,
My spirit leaves my body to dream,
And Moodswings,
They begin to spiral.
moordykspot2