Tasting the Wine.
One long-ago golden afternoon
I rode past high fells then clad in rough bracken
under a sky of unbroken blue
and cantered through canopies
of russet trees thrown over the roadside while
autumnal moor-land rose in
beautiful solitude shadowing wind and cloud
then halting I heard liquid laughter.
Where would streamlet pebbles
be found white as those at my dismounted feet
and could heathered summits
slumber through autumn more peacefully
or lark-song appear so enchanting ?
I had heard it said that highland
air tasted of wine, flavoured with grass-scent
and drawing a lingering breath
as cool filled lungs I knew that made sense
as I gulped in ether-sharp drafts.
So divine was the reverential quiet
on my enlightened face that I closed awed
eyes and in vibrations of silence
caught nature's presence as never before.
-
Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: January 14th, 2017 12:08
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 50
Offline)
Comments9
Beautiful and nice, I read it twice! -- phoenix
Thanks for sharing FAY ~ YES Highland Air does indeed taste of wine ~ grass-scented. A quality poem ! Love the visual it add piquancy to the poem !
Beautifully crafted.
Well written and expressed Great write
Beautiful free verse.
getting in tune with your soul
Beautifully discriptive image prevoking
heathered summits ~ wow how do you do it Fay? i love it!
in the absence of a new post today ..
I just had to see where you are coming from .. and believe me, I was not disappointed ...... 💜x
Bless ya mon ami -- thanking you muchly and though late I admit I have just posted my daily offering - - called Redefining - - been so busy today but had to find one to edit and post - -- trusting it fits your bill too on the calming pooled water can give us .............x
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