Blue
Clouds part and through the crystal gaps
azure refracted light streams
onto hidden feral depths
reflecting ribbons of a deeper hue -
a mirror rippled in flecks
of white that bubble and fade.
She fancies that she sees the popping
of some surface fish,
glinting silver knife-like,
dipping and darting to the indigo deep.
Up on the headland's grassy coat
among wild flowers she sits
where they once sat in love's first bloom.
His cornflower eyes, dancing,
laughter tinkling in the salty breeze
transported into history.
Twisting the ring, that circle of trust
raised to a sapphire head -
each facet a memory.
Tim Fellows 2018
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