A composite piece based on several places and experiences
To this place I am drawn, this faery dell
with it’s fall of silver tipped essence
and Naiad woven spell.
Bubbling chatter chants that sedate,
luring those who can see,
bidding them rest awhile and wait
amongst fronds of softest fern
to praise the Art of nature’s Sprites
and ever after for this heaven yearn.
It seems hours, yet it is but a moment’s pause
before I can focus beyond mere sight
and gently part the filter gauze.
There on the rocks beneath breeze flight seeds,
cling emerald sponges of moss,
a nursery for tiny glass water beads
watching the bigger droplets play,
splashing over polished pebbles
as they dance in the spray.
Surly guards of scented stoic pine
ring this haven of miracles that
basks under the glow of Bluebell shine.
There is no industry save the water’s fall
feeding the cool pliant pool, deftly
shielded from the sun by leafy shawl.
And then a gift to me was revealed,
faint but no illusion, bands of colour
emerged from the mist where once concealed.
An arc of red through green, myriad shades between
A bashful beauty seldom seen,
dispersed with a blink.