AUGUST MORNING

1 0 0
                                    


Green rolling hills wave down to the sea

green purple trees sway in the sky.


Clean scent from bracken and broom

rising golden time light.


Blue waves gravel the shore

blue sky scudding white cloud.


Over heather Curlew cries

over harebells Skylark sings.


Stream flows peace over the clay

mist drifts morning over this day.

Natural world-PoemsWhere stories live. Discover now