




Purple Heather Blooms
Clothing moorland and hillsides
beloved of bees
















Me
A cascade of old photos,
Showing how much time goes by.
Behind my face I peer at me,
Myself, my life and I.
She looks a bit like someone
Frozen in a backwards glance.
Perhaps a snapshot memory,
A shoulder bumped by chance.
Her eyes are gently mocking,
For the things she’s yet to feel.
The sadness, joy and thunder,
Carving out a path more real.
For her there is forever
Still in hopeful , youthful gaze.
A thousand opportunities,
For lazy summer days.
As we see floating futures,
inside our younger eyes.
Surround us fly winged memories,
Each vibrant fairground prize.
Versions of our one- day,
Our hero selves ahead,
The grown up real ,unbroken;
Then life unfolds instead.
For our unblemished faces,
Catch light from all our line;
And carve each deepening smile line,
A portrait sketched from time.
No filters, just the Art Group
In all our unique selves x
โค๐งก๐๐๐๐