laundry fresh

i stroll the path
which runs beside the sea
the sun reflecting
hot and bright
on my white shirt
laundry fresh
a sweet breeze blowing
from the north
carrying highland tales
warm with the scent
of summer soon
the field is clover green
star studded
buttercups adorn the green
in such perfection
almost painted
while small white daisies
flee like spattered paint
across the canvas
the firth is still
baby waves wriggle shore wards
and sigh, soft and sibilant
emboldened by their goal
sun hot white sand
with open ears
i hear the earth
my eyes soar
with the hook beaked gulls
to dive white flashing
through the water barrier
i feel the truth
i know creation
my soul sings
while i learn to breathe

Copyright © 2004-2009 by Eryll Oellermann