From a spring above the fens
A chuckling rivulet descends,
That squabbles with
The rocks and bends.
Cascading, tumbling
Where it ends
In fields of lavender.
Freed from caverns underground
Crystal waters leap and bound,
Through Forests deep
Their laughing sound
Replays and echoes
All around
Bright fields of
lavender
Weary now, I close my eyes
Sleep cradles me as water sighs,
Far, far from slate grey winter skies
I dream of lavender.
Copyright© Alan Gilbert 2011.
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