The Walk Poem by Hazel Connelly

We walked through the blue haze
Of the heather covered hillside
Down to the green valley below,
Past the brown weather washed cabin
Standing on the grey winding path
Cherries falling at our feet
Bright red like your lips.

Amidst the vibrant gold of the sunlight.
And the smell of the green and lilac
herbs on the breeze
I stood, brush poised in hand
Wanting to capture
The pink blush of your face,
The copper of your hair
glistening in the sun
It would have been the ultimate canvas
Then darkness descended
Thunder rumbled and we were awash
With crystal drops of rain.

©Hazel