Lime Light

When you can’t see the wood for the trees,
Then, feel for the wood’s embrace,
Look for the space between the leaves,
Where the sunlight harvests peace.

Stop to breathe in the warmth of lime light,
That seeps between the oak, ash and elm,
And falls like cherry blossom bright,
With the promise of summer’s realm.

Bathe in the balm of soothing Bluebell oil,
A joyous invitation to embrocation,
To cool the heat of pain and toil.
And find yourself in your own location.