Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2009

Meadow Days

by Debra Chapman

Cerise Foxgloves rise through Rolling Meadows green,
Anticipate treasures spring will show.
Sun blessed buttercups worn in tussled hair,
Distant trickling waters slowly flow.
 
Lonely in the heavens a pure white cloud meanders on,
Blown along by angel's whispers in the sky.
Sun rays gently kiss my face with warmth of home,
Radiating through the Cornflower sea up high.
 
Flitting tiny wings chatter and swoop on breezes warm,
Sweet aromas honeysuckle and grasses fresh and clear.
Click and click the cricket's song hurried buzzing fills the air, 
Silence but for natures tune a peace that only I can hear.
 
I longed for this, when battle grey and dank was all I breathed,
Hope leaves with flickers of light long left my staring gaze.
Now lost in perfect canvas vivid colours merge and glisten through,
All pain dissolved the darkness gone, just sunny meadow days.
 

Added: 10.02.2009

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