Once Upon a Time In Wharfedale

When winter’s end is imminent and springtime soon becoming blackbird and thrush in noble song bumble bee busily humming. Scent of air fondles the hazy morning scattered seed cultivates memoirs of time, to ramble throughout lob wood and hear sweet bluebells across the valley chime. sweet song of nature the sound of the butterfly harmony at dawn Hosts of yellow heads briskly swaying hillside meadows in unison bloom, fussy rodents in jubilant paradise; Street House Farm in nature’s plume. Pussy willow caresses the embankment; Ridding's Farm basks in the heat of June, inspired scythe displays ancient skill fragrant hedgerow sings dawn’s vibrant tune. tears of dew sparkle grassy stems in sunlight sway a whisper of wind Ocean of radical heather signify welcome waves of moorland mist, deluge of dewy tears fall on this place heavenly kissed. Wooden bench outside the old hay barn, where the sultry breeze in sugar hill dances, orchestrates the old folk with war-torn minds reminisce those given a life of second chances. for to those this day a touch upon rustic face nature’s sweetest voice. © Harry J Horsman 2019