Meadow of dreams.

camille

 


In my dream I wander alone.
The pace sedate - I have no appointment.
Languid like a cat, I stretch- The season is Mid summer.
Fragrance of wild meadow flowers- Mother nature's unique blend.
I turn the corner and under that impossibly blue, blue sky I see it......


The grass a sun bleached green , tips bent in the summer breeze.
Gently rolling as far as my eye can see.
And suddenly I am running,- my fingertips brushing that long meadow grass.
The sun is warm on my shoulders.
I take greedy lungfuls of that heady floral scent.

I climb the crumbling wooden stile.....
Descend into an intricately stitched carpet of dazzling beauty.
The seamstress has been busy here- fashioning her green cape studded with jewels.
The artist canvas alive with colour.

Wild foxglove with its purple hues, tall stems adorned with bells.
The creamy heavy blooms of white headed yarrow - resting place for butterflies.
The delicate pinks of dog rose line the hedgerow,
Yolk orange buttercup and its paler yellow neighbour, wild primrose - side by side.
Blue cornflower on its tall and wiry stem.... Seldom seen.


I sink down into this warm,soft eiderdown of colour.
The sun golden on my face.
A pleasant distant drone of buzzing insects in my ears .
This must surely be paradise.

 

 

 

 

 

  • Author: Camille (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: June 23rd, 2016 10:10
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 91
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Comments3

  • BRIAN & ANGELA

    WELCOME CAMILLE ~ Love your first poem it burst with the joy of Summer flowers and Summer fragrance through you poem I could see and scent the beauty of the meadow. You are nearer God.s heart in a Garden than anywhere else on Earth - Paradise indeed. I love the structure and flow of your poem ~ five perfect free verse stanzas ~ each one drawing us deeper into paradise. Thanks for Sharing ~ Yours BRIAN

    • camille

      Thank you .. I wanted nature to be tangible ... As in my memories.. Childhood nostalgia .

    • lysistrata

      Your words,your sentences fall one after the other like seeds that spring Life...
      Keep writing.

    • camille

      Thank you for your kind critique.



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