Rother Valley - late summer
Mist hanging low like cotton wool
burnt off by slowly rising sun;
Birds succumb to south's winter pull -
like us they'll soon be come and gone.
Thin shadows point towards the west
of trees lined up in military file.
White two, on blue, the pigeon's rest;
the playful dog, a small child's smile
Arrow-point geese glide in to land -
doubled as mirrored in the lake -
synchronised their wings are fanned
then fold as they apply their brake.
Awakened insects dart and dance
around the grasses and the reeds.
Their ritualistic final chance
as nights grow long and days recede.
Life-paired swans can gently bob,
white quilled towards the wooded isle;
elegant pen and graceful cob
know none compare in regal style.
Warmth grows in stealth as climbs the sun;
a picture perfect Summer's end.
But Autumn knows its day will come
and waits in patience round the bend.
(c) Tim Fellows 2017
Just brill Tim.
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