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

❤🧡💛💚💙💜