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margaret-ann-waddicorPoems
Today the sun burst through grey clouds and sported great cumulus sailing high up in the blue nordic ocean of the sky below resting on the earth the indigo of the hills shading to infinity strange distant escape routes for the mind storm shadows shading the picture slowly encroaching on this idyll in ominous grey-black layers silhouetting the colourful lupins ah lovely contrasts how they lift our spirits from the mundane and send our imagination into celestial dwellings we only see in our dreams now the dawn of another day has come and gone and evening light dwindles behind the winding sheet of the weather that earlier hid the bright sun a sense of quiet permeates the atmosphere birds have disappeared they were peppering the birch tree most of the day clouds small puffs of damp some of which have been stark white in the sunshine have become pale blue-grey all is spread like a water-colour wash beneath a slightly pink pastel powdery paper sky the hills close their flowers hush their hawks streams carry on their gurgle and chatter among the rocks and the firs stand upright to reach a better view of the valley while we shut out day and stare into the dark becoming a part of it Margaret Ann Waddicor 13th December 2015 (edited then)
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Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 3:17 AM UTC
A day of sun and cloud in Flatdal
Today the sun burst through grey clouds and sported great cumulus sailing high up in the blue nordic ocean of the sky below resting on the earth the indigo of the hills shading to infinity strange distant escape routes for the mind storm shadows shading the picture slowly encroaching on this idyll in ominous grey-black layers silhouetting the colourful lupins ah lovely contrasts how they lift our spirits from the mundane and send our imagination into celestial dwellings we only see in our dreams now the dawn of another day has come and gone and evening light dwindles behind the winding sheet of the weather that earlier hid the bright sun a sense of quiet permeates the atmosphere birds have disappeared they were peppering the birch tree most of the day clouds small puffs of damp some of which have been stark white in the sunshine have become pale blue-grey all is spread like a water-colour wash beneath a slightly pink pastel powdery paper sky the hills close their flowers hush their hawks streams carry on their gurgle and chatter among the rocks and the firs stand upright to reach a better view of the valley while we shut out day and stare into the dark becoming a part of it Margaret Ann Waddicor 13th December 2015 (edited then)
Since this follows on as one describing the same view as the last poem here. I have many more from there of course. I love my valley in its ever changing lights.
margaret-ann-waddicor
Written by
margaret-ann-waddicor
Norway.
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 3:17 AM UTC
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