The blue dress saga 5

In my blue dress I met a real stranger
Sitting alone on a gate
Philosophising apparently
Why his world was in such a state
The sea side he came from
Had all been locked down
Deserted it was quite still
So he had plumped up his feathers
And decided to fly
Inshore a bit for the thrill

Magically of course he saw me
And knew he need not fly Away
I was something completely unique
In his undisciplined life
he would stay
My blue dress it gave me that window
In essence an opening where
With my skeleton key I could blatantly
Be accepted and together could share

He spoke of those wide open beaches
Of the sand flats nirvana for him
The rock pools alive with so many creatures
All of them well in the swim
The breakers encrusted with mussels
And limpets despite the great sea
Coming and going and forever knowing
But they still knew where they had to be

And he was a fearless as ever
Off the cliffs with a sweep and a sway
Raucously giving it welly
He loved to be wet from the spray
A phantom, part of some illusion
An ethereal light force was he
Absorbed by the magic around him
Realising his identity
I sat down beside him
And watched very closely
Him Stretching his wings
He said he
was fearful of how quiet
The beaches were now
On the whole by and large
He felt free

Wildness was now centre stage
Everywhere
The people were missing
Their noise
It was what corrupted
The salient sounds
Replacing the obvious joys
A few walked their dogs
Or jogged on the tide
But the winds and the
Energy stayed
The crash of the sea
On the rocks seemingly
Very much it’s stock in trade

We have a strange following daily
Aggression is all on our side
Some people think we are harmless
Those city folk
Discounting our deeds they’ve denied
We are rulers so often proclaiming
As In circular patterns we fly
Ringing the air with our tormenting voices
Creating our rumpus on high
He spoke of his friends back in Essex
How rowdy they all seemed to be
As the coming tide carried a greater abundance
The foreshore and shallows were key
The harbour had lots of rich pickings
Lots of fish debris there be
Thanks to the fishermen trimmings we share
But even that’s less actually

Sitting there talking
A Hedgerow alive
with the murmurings of the wee folk
The insects and birds
Takes a great many words
To describe them all
And the spirited, soonest invoke
Much for the discerning listeners
Hollow trunks ivy and bark
Wood boring insects bank voles
In their own way all leaving their mark

Rabbits and Badgers in tunnels below
Shelters our eyes may not see
There is order all over
Each doing their thing
Blue tits at the top
Great tits on the ground
Scurrying burrowing
All have their own sound

And here comes a fox
“Evening Mr Fox”
I am rather hungry
To many knocks today
And who is your new friend
Dear Dawn, he said
He’s come from the sea side
Where he is well fed

But even there it’s getting harder
Each day
The lockdown is biting
And so much dismay
Is getting us worried
We are suffering too
We need to get Back ,to our
Life which is true

Interdependence it is everywhere
We all are connected
The wide world we share
Lots of fat earthworms
Hedgehogs and mice
Living close together
On a roll of the dice
Your wearing blue Miss
What is your name
Oh me I am Dawn
In a way bringing light
And creating a flame

A magickal being
Able to converse
With all of gods creatures
For better for worse
Able to understand insect and bird
And mammals and trees even
Which kind of stirred
All the beings for it was a gift
A magickal moment
A commemorative shift

Being invisible to her own kind
Yet able to see and hear
Us nonaligned
That was her feat
And she had to confess
It was really all down to her
Lovely blue dress

Stitched by the elves
From the rosemary where
So many fingers used lightness and care
Woven the beautiful flowers into silk
And with crazy spells diluted in milk
Fashioned her blue dress
The colour of Dawn
With their myriad needles
Made out of thorn

The fox clearly interested
At what she said
Had broken into a hen house
And left them all dead
All these dead foul
Brought the wrath on his soul
But with feathery chaos
He had lost control

So the humans were after him
They are anyway
The huntsman and hunts
Who with dogs want to slay
Every red crimson
Chase them and run
At the cry of the cornet
His life would be done

About Rex Tyler

I love animals. I enjoy writing poetry and delivering speeches.I like to mentor people who need help in preparing speeches and evaluations.I enjoy travel although it is much harder for me these days.I so enjoyed the Andes Mountains and Volcanoes and the Quichua people who live and thrive there.I have lots of friends around the world.
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