Kenn
10-May-10, 19:36
Down the braes like waterfalls of gold you fall,
Flowers gleaming in the sun,
Above the pines stand dark and tall,
The bracken and the heather one.
Over the cliff edge too, you bloom,
To where the sea in many shades of blue,
Marks the boundary of your golden flume,
Until you spread to pastures new.
The honeyed perfume fills the evening air,
The evening sun light dancing on your flower,
Pollen laden bumble bees flying here and there,
Glistening rain drops from the passing shower.
And still the colour burns so bright
As the sun sinks low beyond the hill,
Your petals turning orange with the coming night
So feast my eyes, while I can see you still.
Flowers gleaming in the sun,
Above the pines stand dark and tall,
The bracken and the heather one.
Over the cliff edge too, you bloom,
To where the sea in many shades of blue,
Marks the boundary of your golden flume,
Until you spread to pastures new.
The honeyed perfume fills the evening air,
The evening sun light dancing on your flower,
Pollen laden bumble bees flying here and there,
Glistening rain drops from the passing shower.
And still the colour burns so bright
As the sun sinks low beyond the hill,
Your petals turning orange with the coming night
So feast my eyes, while I can see you still.