Corsewall Woods


Summer morning remembering
scintillation of boyhood holidays
the light of dawn fresh
and rich as local milk
glimpsed through fronds
of old tall trees, cool
from the whispering leaf shade
into unreachable brightness
across ripening fields
a white house distant
whose green hill conceals
the sea beyond, imagined

This entry was posted in Art, History, Photography, Poetry, Psychology, Travel, Writing. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Corsewall Woods

  1. Pingback: News | Douglas Thompson's Blog

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