Lying flat amongst the purple clover
on top of a very chalky hill.
Listening to my mind tick over
and around me life is perfectly still.

I calmly glance at the blue sky
I can smell the fragrance of late honeysuckle
I notice the dance of the pale blue butterfly
tasting the sweetness of the corn cockle.

I manage a few shut eyes and forty thinks
Then realise my mind is one mad scramble
I try to visualise cottage roses and rich red pinks
and decide to venture on in a casual amble.

I wondered if this is where they keep forgotten rainbows
in amongst the silence where the river bends
Perhaps it is where the blue lavender grows
in a place where promises are made and false hopes end.

The air sweeps gracefully across my peachy face
I hear the lonely call of an overhead thrush
I decide to leave my Heaven, my resting place
and return once more to life's mad, mad rush.