I laze alone, enthralled,
between the trunks, of mighty oaks
parading their twisted canopies,
gazing deeply into the pastel shades,
of velvet Greens, and tints of
silvered browns and greys,
Branches filter cotton string-lets,
Like seams, knitting colours to
This blissful artistic painted sky,
Thoughts lifting, drifting up,
To where Haley spun, smiled,
And quickly shot on by,
Leaving traces of cosmic dust
melting between seas of
afternoon blues
And serenity beckons the evening hue,
As grouse and buck dart in and out of view,
