
Where my fingers trace the dotted curves
Where coppice checkers in mosaic green
We dream, we dream, we dream.
There the tall ships masts of clacking birch
Gulls taunt us earthlings from the April sky
Where my fingers trace the dotted curves.
There the air creaks like an opening door
Wind envelopes us in its haunting call
Where coppice checkers in mosaic green.
There on the diamonds set above the rise
Where distant silver lies in ocean shine
We dream, we dream, we dream.
This is my second response to Muri’s Poetry Scavenger Hunt (https://murisopsis.wordpress.com/2022/03/30/looking-forward-to-poetry-month/) in the form of a Cascade poem (http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/cascade.html). This poem was inspired by a wonderful (but extremely windy) walk across the Dorset countryside this morning. (We used an Ordnance Survey map).