Owls, hidden in acorn laden oaks,
Speak a soothing, soft goodnight to each other
As the sunrise, that only I and the farmer greet,
Suggests the bright night stars should sleep.
The gentle rolling simmer of ochre pigeon chatter,
Is occasionally broken by the staccato scratches dispatched by fire-grate painted pheasants.
Hares scuttle through the sharp spikes of fading straw that once held to attention golden ears of corn,
While the ruffled swaying reed seed heads are the only sign that fluffy scut of the roe deer passed by.
Long shadows are cast along hedgerows,
Home to the now woken Wren whose residence is bedecked with ripening summer fayre.
Berries and fruits blush red, purple and rose among dew dripped purple and sage leaves.
High above the slow slipping streams, where day moths shiver into flight,
A skien of pink footed geese mumble in loose formation, their silhouettes forming fluid moving ink spots, unformed conventions in the blue page of the sky.
In the open fields, sheep request their feed – the day begins.
Missives & Musings 