Member Poem

Was it in the fragrance,
of the scented mint,
that brushed my cheeks,
or those lilac  petal chains, 
on moss strewn  pathways,
was it in those rays,
that  danced sequentially  across,
the green flaked Grecian urn, 
or the noon day noodling of sea gull cries,
or that scarlet robin roosting,
on a grey grained granite wall?
As these probing questions,
plagued my inner essence,
this dawning gradually takes root. 
For whatever reason the stream,
before my eyes unveiled its fountain,
Moonstone mountain  peak a skyline outcrop ,
an everlasting  stunning monument,
to harmony and balance, 
each sprouting  plant a red earth chalice, 
rooted in its own succulent  juices.
Every speckled branch oozed,
their almost human warmth,
extending to each compass point.
For the first time spring tide  feelings,
engulfed my each and evert fibre,
with those dizzy revelations,
that normally elude  our daily rush.