Drumwhindle

Swallows flying high above me in the early morning sun Catching their breakfast feast Reading the signs that Autumn has come Steadying their wings for an African flight A true act of nature Sparrows watch me from a lilac tree which has gone to seed What is this beast of man What is his breed The sun is shining far above casting shadows through the Elder Sycamore and willow herb and the sweet smell of rose touched my Senses I am as you are I tell the sparrows a spark of light eternal energy but maybe not as bright they nod in agreement and turn to flight Plums turn from green to crimson another sign that summer has gone And Apple's drop from their hammocks A feast for the life around me to sustain them through the Harsh winter to come A stone at my back casting its shadow dancing with the sun A remenance of a culture who once walked these lands Yes Drumwhindle where magic stands