A hush descended under pale blue iris skies
As I, a cobblestoned footpath threaded through rosemary and myrtle aisles
Silhouettes of pewter clouds sailed over
While I wended through glen, glade and lea of clover
Down the moors sinking into the caverns and coves
I wandered like a lost lambkin weaving my way into a sheltered grove
I'm home and hearth to caravans and trailers
The weary homeless, nomads and the downtrodden tent dwellers
I drank the last limpid pools of honeyed sunbeam
Whilst skirting the moon-bathed lakes and rocks laced with lichen
Traveling with the pilgrims over crests of hills
The ocean echoes are a melancholia spraying me with salty mists
I stretch through the dim lamplit streets of hamlets and towns
The bright city lights which upon me severely frowns
A frigid and clammed up breeze rustles a cypress lined boulevard
Humming the glories of warm golden days abandoned miles behind
The sky hanging low cleanses me with her downpour
Under a starry night I sparkle with diadems galore
Through battlefields and cemeteries, farms and ranches
I make my way home while a myriad of season dances.
©️ Sangeetha Kamath
Pic Courtesy:Image by Peter Schmidt from Pixabay
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