There are days

There are days

When I could carry her home

Lay her down

Beneath a tall tree

Sing a love song

With the Blackbird

Accompanied by a chorus

Of Cicadas on percussion.

A whispering wind

To carry the words

Across the sea

Where

A School of Porpoise

Sing

Whilst taking instruction

On decorum from a Dolphin

Hell-bent on stealing the limelight

From the Humpbacks

Waving long pectorals

Like sugar plum fairies.

The smell of salt

In the air

As poignant

As the scoop of land

Beyond the forest

Where the grass rolls in waves

Swaying back and forth

In a soft breeze.

In Albion,

Dandelion clocks

Count down to the end of summer.

Autumn waits in the wings

With its reds and golds

Ready to fall

Across the path.

The crunch of leaves underfoot

An evocation

Of another day

Nestled in remembrance

Dusted with

A rime of perspiration

And the determination

To always carry her with me

As I take the long road

Home.