I dream of the gorse
and the tufted cloud-
sheep,
sleek,
the wobbly young
wed
to the ground.
but the sky is
a mother,
who gathers her own
up,
and the rain rolls down.
(my photos and poem, inspired by several Northern Welsh adventures)
ha. the rhyme makes for an interesting off beat to this... the babies wed to the ground and the mother who gathers her own UP is a cool touch too....spring will come...
1 comment:
ha. the rhyme makes for an interesting off beat to this...
the babies wed to the ground and the mother who gathers her own UP is a cool touch too....spring will come...
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