thermals
it’s the time of the thistle wool
spreading on a summer breeze
while on shore the rising buzzards pull
my eyes up way up above the trees
while under the lichened limestone wall
the mice are sleeping on that wool
and chewing an the seeds but that’s not all
for as the warming lizard darts my eye
an illusive lark steals the sky where
and three hang-gliders describe an arc
to land on Rhosilli beach breaking free
in roller after rollers from the sea
stop consider such a day as this
it’s heaven isn’t it absolutely bliss
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