Six People

The poet leaves his winter study and roams around mountains and deep woods, The painter sold his pictures and is off to sketch on heath and highlands, The child runs through sun kissed meadows and across dusty golden commons, The lovers walk down country lanes and wander about each other, on mead's, The man of the road smiles as he knows the night will not be bitterly cold, The nightingale sings a haunting melody bringing tears to the lovers eyes, The trees swaying in a breeze an oak drops acorns, the child collects them, The mountains capped with snow unleashes a stream of fine words from the poet, The heath and highlands glow with beautiful greenery and the painter paints, The birds swoop from bough to bough the poet sees and he writes some prose, The man of the road listens to bird song his eyes mist bringing sad memories The evening sun falls behind the horizon a beautiful sunset the lovers kiss, The poet sees the sunset and writes about dark golden evenings and warm nights, The painter mixes yellow and black and that captures this wonderful picture, The boy leaves the woods to go home as it is nearly time for his evening meal, The man of the road lays down deep in the woods his overcoat is his blanket, The lovers walk arm in arm as the day darkens they make their way home slowly, The painter cleans his brushes and carefully lays down his canvas in the dark, The poet is happy he has written beautiful words he lays in his bed reflecting, The boy is fast asleep dreaming of the fantastic day he enjoyed in the woods, The six unconnected people that were unknowingly were connected sleep soundly.