One day they arrive in a frenzied flight,
On a beautiful morning, with sky so bright.
Swooping and soaring, they show off their skills,
Diving and spinning, they perform at will.
Hunting in flight, with acrobatic flair,
Butterflies and moths come out (if they dare).
The season is short, and soon they are gone,
To a much warmer climate, where they belong.
Sue Wood
This pure white beauty
Shines brightly in the dark glade
Light within the gloom
Sue Wood
The hedgerow is dull from Winter’s rest,
I long for bowls of lemony zest
I see a glow, beneath the tall tree,
Cluster of blooms, so vibrant to see.
Sunshine beams amongst the shade,
Lights up the void within the glade…
Sue Wood
The river Roskhill flows gently towards the sea, ceaselessly providing us with the tranquil sounds of its journey.
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