Woodbine/Honeysuckle
I don't know what this is except that it grows
in clumps along the road below .
The old long road.
My Journey
I took a walk along the road to see what I could see
wildflowers peeped out and wild bees sung too me
All the while the sun shone gently down over my head
above it crows and small brown birds flew in warm air.
A hen cackled, a cock crowed in some small stone yard
in the distance a dog barked, I listened to natural sound
Delighted to be me and to stroll in harmony, stopping
here and there to rest or peer through hedgerows.
I saw through bright leaves two heavy horses grazing
one as black as turf, the other dune coloured sand.
I dreamed of a four wheeled bow-top on open road
the clop of hooves, the waft of a tail swinging gently.
A camp site by a slow stream with friends at a wood fire
black tea in my hand, the chatter and companionship.
Perfumed as we were by wild bright colourful woodbine
Lives now only in cherished memory, all gone now, gone.
Awake once more to reality, I turn find a place to sit
fill my old briar pipe to offer smoke as a tribute.
On rising the legs are renewed, the feet soothed
as I take the long road for my cottage home.
© MRL June 2015
Mrs & Mr Chicken - variety unknown
Clover
Soapwort
Dog Roses
Wonderful!!! Everything about this post is special... and I adore Honeysuckle!!!
ReplyDeleteThank you very much for your comments Gwen and we love to sit out on warm summer evenings with the aroma of Honeysuckle wafting around us.
DeleteOh Mel so beautifully written I feel like I am there too. Enjoy the treats of summer, honeysuckle and lilac my favourites.
ReplyDeleteThank you Grace. I had a great evening walk you know.
DeleteThank you for sharing your walk Mel! The beauty of your surroundings and, the memories in words to invoke nostalgia.
ReplyDeleteGood to hear from you Irene and thanks for your comment.
DeleteWell said. The best part of our morning walk is listening to the variety of bird songs.
ReplyDeleteNo sound better than birdsong is there and never out of tune :)
ReplyDeleteAhh memories...brings me along to 'back in the day'...thanks Mel xxx
ReplyDeleteCherished are the memories Patsy.
DeleteGreat words grandpa Heron, captures the beauty of your lovely nook of Ireland :)
ReplyDeleteThank you Snapdragon and I have revealed areas of my life that many may not know....
DeleteLove the boreen, flowers and poem Heron.
ReplyDeleteThank you Dave am glad that you liked it all.
DeleteI just love the chicken and the hoop.
ReplyDeleteOr is it a hose?
Me too Sarah, I couldn't believe my luck in capturing those two on camera, we don't see many hens out and about, they are mainly cooped up.
DeleteIt is a hose pipe.
Thank you for your comment.
Variety of chicken I think Heron is a Hybrid Layer - some Rhode Island Red but crossed with other breeds
ReplyDeletetp produce a good layer.
Love your Summery pictures but I still refuse to accept the introduction of June 1st as the beginning of
Meteorological Summer. I have always thought of Summer as June 21st to September 21st.
Hasn't the Solstice come round quickly this year?
Thanks for your comments Pat and name of the chicken variety. Totally disagree with you on the date of the start of summer. To me it starts at Bealtaine around 6th May and ceases at Lughnasadh end of August; the whole crux of summer is sunlight which ripens the crops and it really does not matter if we disagree Pat because Nature works on regardless of people :)
DeleteAh, tea brewed over a wood fire... Your poem was excellent and has me thinking of a pipe - which my wife does not understand and is still outlawing! Loved the photos, as well.
ReplyDeleteI can see that you have an appreciation of the subtleties Casey :) .......
DeleteThank you.