The Valley

Dust kicks up from the dry trodden path
As children instinctively run toward the sound of flowing water
Treat in hand ready to serve the waiting swans

As a servile orange sunset sigh’s its last breath of warmth
Young love entwines in the soft blades of grass
Lost in the gentle embrace of sensory confusion

The Willow dangles its branches, stirring circles in the gentle flow
Splashing the riverbank, its soft kiss stays in rhythm with the young lovers
Their steady heartbeats in synchrony with the moment

The trill of crickets add their last chorus to the summers haze
A dog barks whilst chasing rabbit’s through an old pile of leaves
Sunlight seeps into the horizon, withdrawing the days crimson mood

Indigo blue now starts to fill the valley, suppressing the fragile light
Belongings packed, people start to trek their way back home
The valley now empty, ready to adorn its gown of night.