It's all too Beautiful ( I P )

The dawn of a new day, we embrace and
absorb the sights and sounds...trekking out
along the ridgeway...breathing in scents of
nature, motivates all of our desires to be alive,

along hedgerows and bushes, a thrush sings
out her song of joy...as sparrows join in the
early morning chorus...seeming to play hide,
come seek, in undergrowth worms gratify.

As morning drifts into afternoon, the village
we reach, a welcome sight, to rest a while...
to quench our thirst...some food to eat, then
once again we're on our way fervent as ever,

we meander through ancient churchyard,
funny how these places can effect the mood,
our thoughts turn fragile for tranquil peace...
with only the rustling of the age old leaves,

the crows with a piercing caw nesting high
in the trees, cry out to the sounds of danger,
for they are the hells angels of the skies...
they stand for no nonsense with their thick
black plumage, and huge big staring eyes.

As evening approaches...sun sets on a fire
clad sky, we drift back to our tent...night-time
sounds play with our imagination, as in torch
light beam, a barn owl's image illuminated...
soaring, shrieking to look upon its lying kill.

A slow release of rain falling...breaking our
sweet thoughts, driving us for to finally fall
into weary slumber, our dreams of tomorrow
of a glorious new day...that's not too far away.