I little late posting my poem today. A you see I have written a free verse today. Hope you enjoy reading this as much I did penning it.
The Vale
The soft grass a carpet before me.
Mosses entwined within emerald blades.
Delicate as duck down softening each step.
Oaken trees stand guard to this mystical Vale.
Whispering lost secrets through dark fluted leave.
Watching as centuries, strong, solid, proud - seeing all.
My eyes are drawn to a stream fed from mountain water.
Pure, cold and fresh as it gathers a winding speed and force.
Gurgling its story - as it slips eternally over the pebbly stream bed.
Pebbles of such wonderful colours, like polished gems tempting me.
With confident noise bubbling its future as a bold raging life giving river.
Wag tails bob this way and that... Pecking at minute morsels, invisible to me.
Their comical movements like harlequin clowns performing for me and the masses.
By Helen Stallard
March 9 2014
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