The watcher.

The wren watches from its ivy perch.
A curious stoat,sleekly sinuous,hunts among grasses and moss covered stones.
Rain returns,shelter sought



A thin veil of dust lies on the bookcase.
Misty layers,like time passed,lie softly on the framed photographs.
Shaded memories of who we were

Sepia shaded pictures on the shelf.
A lingering scent,recollections of high days,holidays and heartache.
Echoes of laughter,memories of love.

Reflective glass and shiny frames.
Pictures in pride of place,misty eyes and wry smiles at the colours of the past.
The present is a gift.

Sunshine chases shadows away
Touches all with colours of hope,yellow roses,white lilies,blue rosemary.
The language of flowers,sharing joy.