Sunday, July 24, 2011
Midsummer in Greystones
Morning yawns through my window,
curtains dance to the swish of the sea.
A lemon field sleeps under the mountains
plum purple with perfumed heather.
Hedgerows pink with blackberry blossoms
toppled with milky trumpets of bindweed.
Pine cones scatter my walk to the beach
the air fused with damp seaweed.
Church bells chime down the hillside,
The village stirs under a honeysuckle sky.
Life peeps from geranium doorways
as the blush of a new day blooms.
Posted by Kerkedijk at 7/24/2011