BC small 12

The Heath - Morning Time

Still and breathless, in the half-light of morning,

Golding the sky the sun brings the dawning –

A new day is born with the gilding of trees

And silence is broken by mornings’ first breeze.

Runny bunny rabbits venture out of their holes,

Kestrels on high search for mice, shrews and voles,

The dance of life begins once more

And follows the rhythm of natural law.

 

The exotic scent of tall nodding thistles –

Counterbalanced by fierce, thorny prickles.

Warbling skylarks in hovering flight

With long brown tails and wings edged in white.

Small butterflies blue with wings silver-studded

Emerging in sunshine on heather pink-budded,

Protected by ants whose vigilance brings

Security whilst they inflate crumpled wings.

A green tiger beetle searching for prey

Hurries on by in his scuttling way.

A lizard – motionless – eyeing up flies

His grey-brown body in good disguise.

 

Lost within this world of heather

Time is just a fleeting feather –

Of fire which burns too fast for me

For soon it’s plain for all to see

The brilliance of the noon-day sun

Signals half this day is done.

A sense of weariness now growing,

Homeward, feeling calm and knowing

There’s something about this heathery place

Which leaves me with a smile on my face.