Lyrical Verse

There was a time.

The pendulum motions to and fro,

From the clock upon the wall.

As the second ebb like grains of sand,

For one by one they fall.

Through the window of the dim lit room,

For outside, lies a world of grey,

For thoughts now turn to yester year,

That seems so far away.

With freckle on skin and golden hair,

Topped with lace like bonnet fair.

Upon a face a smile of glee,

As little feet splash in the sea.

A bucket clenched in fingers tight,

With spade to match its colours bright.

In awe and wonder of many things,

Through eyes so young that new life brings.

©   N  Windle.   MMXI.

pleasure is

So sweet the seasons sounds,

That makes for those summer days.

Skies make for a back drop of hues of blue,

Sweet mowing grass now sheared as hay.

Upon my face the beads of perspiration,

As I wipe my fevered brow.

The days now long as I swing forth the scythe,

High above the sun beats down.

A shout breaks my concentration,

For it is Mary who is my love.

Under a large oak tree she shelters,

Truly a pure vision from above.

For with her a wicker basket,

Its contents now lay out before.

She beckons me come forward,

Asl my senses cry out for more.

In her tender arms my head gently lies,

Beneath a canopy of green.

 Dappled sun light highlights her flowing hair,

For the world id trade, for these moments gleaned.

©N . Windle. 2009