A
rich, weathered wall,
Wrinkles,
Patina,
Snowdrops
drooping,
Time
plays randomly!
Thursday
March 5th
Simple
pencil lines
Shape
a child's head,
They
make quiet sadness real.
As bees
seek nectar,
Primroses
smile in the sun,
Hope
is in the air.
Fundamental
words:
'The
English Church shall be free'
Magna
Carta now.
Sunday
March 8th Monday March 9th
A
brief blaze of sun
Outlines
the Malvern Hills:
A
flash of the past flicks in....
Tramping
the ancient paths
Over
the skyline heights,
Gazing
down, along, outwards,
God's
hills, bedrock of our land:
Then
Then
The snapshot
of sun-flare goes
The
spotlight has been switched off,
Black
clouds assert themselves
Drizzle
and fog in tow
The
intense moment’s gone.
Tuesday
March 10th
Stealthily,
a shape
Moves
in the darkness,
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