I can tell you,
It was glorious fair.
They were lit up.
Like a steal of silver from the lining of the clouds,
Or from a spool of grannys hair.
They were colourful,
Like lambent.
Aglow of nature, blues and mustards,
They were in the green.
They were allowing the leaves,
Of a desidious tree.
They were vintage in their grammatical relations,
The blue sky betwean the foliations was-
-Like a string, it was inclining them
To bring. Brillience of Him.
Butterflys in the garden in the height of the spring.
Published by Didi
I grew up in a neighbourhood that was by virtue, ordinary - I am glad when with what is ordinary. I'm also an aspiring devout Catholic. You can visit my blog at http://familiarisunus.blogspot.com/ View profile
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2 Comments
Post a CommentI do agree it is the time of new beginnings. The mourning is my favourite time of the day. As regards gardens though, I don't have a garden where I l presently live.
Hi DiDi. I guess we both dig this time of the year. It is the time of rebirth and new beginnings, right? :}