A Past Event

'A warm heart,
A smiling Face.
A summer's blume.
'Little one's' tiny pace.'

Trickeling pond water crashes against my head,
Gentle in the calm, but fighting in my bed.
Creams and blues.
Greens and every colour you could
Ever imagine.
Playing musical instruments.
While the daffodills hibernate,
Summer has come soon.
To shut out winter's gloom and doom.

Dragonfly's, nesting near the water,
A shot of red, a shot of blue,
Never realised how quickly they flew!
Until my tiny hands, grabbed a few!
Mother's speach, whispered by bankside,
As not to scare the tiny fish,
Any movement now,
There...! Make a wish!

Night dawning, blue-black sky,
The moon present among the trees,
Owls taking flight, fish begin to bite,
You don't get them in the town,
I'd like to be a country girl, I decide.
Snuggle up among the grass,
Dew present, I begin to laugh
In the silence of the night.

Little sheep at the end of the year!
Never seen them here before,
Not to touch them I couldn't bare,
Inches from my hiding place!
Tiny sounds setting the night on fire!
Crickets, grasshoppers, sheep and mice,
Making something so peaceful,
Into such an unforgetable night.

Nine years ago, I sat beside that pond,
Step-father fishing, silently all day,
Mother reading some collection of built-up magazines.
Sharing with me the facts,
And maybe a little gossip.
No mobile disturbing the peace,
No sqeek from our now becautiful,
Yorkshire terriers.
All was at peace.

The animals
The humans
The wildife.

By Boneata Bell

This poem is copyrighted. If you wish to use this poem for any use please contact me on Bonnie0908@live.co.uk


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