A Gift of Windsor
The adored couple stood still on the Long Walk
Tall and handsome
He was looking over his fiancée’s slender shoulders
At the budding blossom trees
She in her delicate way was quietly watching
The Butterflies with the Golden Wings
As they studied their brilliant reflections
In the mirrors of the late morning dew
White Mists
The white mists have cleared
Your sun now caresses the quiet valley
Pheasants guard their brittle eggs
And dream of our summer days
The Ramsbury Ghost Trees
When passing the Ramsbury Ghost Trees
I am always quite stunned
By the paleness of their tender limbs
Only Heaven is aware of this madness
Avebury on a Spring Day
Never cast a clout
Until May is out
Or so the old saying goes
But what luxury it is to walk across ones courtyard
Without the need for shoes
Or winter garments
Amerikan Gothik was running her fingers through the delicate pink blossom of the only tree
Through the pastel petals she could see the proud stones
High in the sheep meadows
Gaspar Becerra was sketching his fiancée in light charcoal
In the morning light the artist
Pondered over his secret shame
Brutal weary and disheartened
Still he mused and dreamt of fame
He requested that she keep still
Be still my love nobody or nobody will purchase my daubing’s
How may I keep keep still on this day full of beauty?
Spring has arrived
See we have visitors in the field
What do you think they make of us?
I do not think they really care
They have come to visit the stones
Not to spy on an artist and his muse
But I am drowning in this pastel tree
Will they not rescue me?
One should not be rescued from beauty
That is a well-known fact
They have no interest in us
Amerikan Gothik climbed over the low case wall and walked towards the nearest stone
She hugged it and ran her light hand over its weathered surface
See I am awakening it from its winters sleep
I will hold it in my arms for a few moments more
And I shall sketch you loving the piebald stone
Spring has arrived and is here to stay
That is my wish until the end of May
2018