Such a magical progression.

[keith]

On a deep dark night with no sun yet in sight, the rhymes of life run slow

like a hatchling trying to be born into a dawn of such a fluorescent glow,

for all around the woodlands unique sound of natures wonderful design

so completely such a magical progression, just like water intio wine,

inside a ball of leaf lined bliss, a dormouse woke and washed his face

then he entered into a springtime made of spider woven Whitby lace,

as angels kept their peace with God, he whispered within a world

where heaven sometimes touched someone as dawns light was unfurled



and in a cottage down a glen, her teardrops trickled down her face,

with natures beauty all around her it still felt such a downcast place,

it was a simple glen of silence with natures beauty spread all around

and although it spread its silence, it felt always so deeply profound,

and then a young child dressed in tatters brought a letter to her door

she brought him in and gave him food, he sought for nothing more,

then she read the ink scribed missive with such a teardrop and a sigh

she remembered long ago when he had turned away and said goodbye.



then she scribbled out a message and gave it to the nervous little boy

and as she sent him on his way she gave a subdued sigh of patient joy,

then she got on with her work, although her dreams told her to sing

she went over to a box on her sideboard, and she took out a pretty ring,

she put it in her apron pocket and she got on with her wondrous day

yet the stars glowing in her eyes kept other sweet thoughts all at bay,

then she lit up all her lanterns , the one in the window most of all

as she saw her lovely husband as he softly came to her to call.



as she opened her door to him she recognised his wondrous smile

and she put her arms around him and held him tightly for a while,

just behind him came the little boy that he had taken under his wing

as his wife remembered and from her apron pocket took out their ring,

then he placed it on her finger where it should have been all along

then he danced his little jig of gladness as he sang his little song,

he took her in his arms again and swore to her that they’d never part

for the cottage in the glen it became a beatifully woven new start…

[Sharon]

engaging piece that is well-expressed and composed