Here’s wishing you were here:

 

Where aureate leaves are thrown to the wind;

Fluffy cream eiderdown clouds timidly appear

Over the smooth charcoal slated convent roof.

 

Wishing you were here, where fluttering leaves

Dance a fox-trot with the cool, teasing breeze

Reflecting their colours in the jade green lake . . .

 

And here, where branches of trees wave gently

As if conducting their invisible orchestras,

Soft raindrops sparkling as they kiss the pool.

 

Here, amidst late flowering roses and lavatera,

And violaceous faces of fading Michaelmas daisies,

Two well-fed ducks and moorhens turn homeward.

 

Here’s wishing you were here

        in my Yorkshire garden

               in the fading light of this

                    autumnal day . . .   

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Copyright on all my poems

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