Blossom
Looking out from the 700 foot contour
rain kissed the barest touch of grey mists
on hills in distant woodland patchwork
each tree reveals hued leaves and buds
different colours mottled vibrancy offered
lime shades of oaks glittering early leaves
glistening Ash buds unseen barely lingering shy
in spring still holds back from false summer days
the Raven in its bowered oak cleft kingdom
unstirred by gusting wind or raindrops frapp
rifled oak bark running hard lined rivulets
in the orchard salmon pink quince glows
