Cuckoo-flowers, some tender meadowland sweetness
Whirled me about as a butterfly, orange and white,
While I was wayward and windward scenting my duty
To be turning this way or that and Oh, yearning for flight!
Waterfalls took up my leisure and kissing of swallows,
Movement of minnows or stickleback fighting to death,
Skimming of pike in the shallows, dragonfly glitter
Led me a dance from the river, led me astray
Where ridiculous magpies strutted insanely unwary
Of the subtle frolics of foxes in between woods
And the air was full of the furry bees all bearing
Silence away in their millions so that I stood
Mesmerised still by that murmuring all afternoon.
Alasdair Aston
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