A dedication

woodland watercolour


The cottage has opened its doors to me,

of dreams long foretold,

of poppies and tiger lilies, violets three,

and memories dear to hold


The path is worn through tender days,

the seeds blossomed; overgrown,

through woods and bluebells I long to stay,

o’er moss fair winds have blown


She halts my quiet sighs,

bent down with grains of sorrow,

and beckons me forth on green fields lie,

Where none but Death can follow


Storms rage on in faraway lands

but close stillness and quiet roam

It comforts the voices of my consumed heart;

and tenderly guides me Home.


Copyright © 2015 by Kate W J White (All Rights Reserved)


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