Rural Sunday

Rural Sunday I sat on a milk ramp by a road that has not suffered the indignity to be covered in a black trickle  Sunday! the sky was eternally blue I could standing up, see the sea the water was azure as well is azure deeper blue than the sky or is it a word used by poets in  the hope he will sound romantic? Fed up sitting there, but I sat wanted to see a drifting cloud the immaculate sky a tall ship crosses the ocean for a while balance on the horizon sailing upside down  till it sank under the weight of the world Fell asleep! awoke as the sun's shift was over a car stopped the driver offered me a lift Imperially, I waved him off I wanted to keep my reveries  a bit longer.