An auric veil of
the real Misty blue
sweet bells of Ashridge
peal out their sweet song
seemingly in shade
in the woods just before
The sign Ashridge House
which most might ignore
the suns looking white
Not much heat in my car
i am wearing short sleeves
with wrist warmers
no star
sundays in ashridge
not many around
cyclists, a few cars
dog walkers
all bound
for a pre
breakfast jaunt
Whilst I sit in my car
writing my poems.