In the garden, the lavender has reached the peak of its purple exhibit; the bay tree stands freshly-leaved, and the day lilies drop away from the sky, ready to meet a land of slumber. The light filters through the leaves of trees, and the thick layers of green hedgerows proudly outline the water-coloured meadows.

Yet, in the darkness of the woods there rests a deep silence, like something lurking, waiting to present itself. The mystic loveliness of nature is almost at its climax, it renews an ancient wave over me, lost since childhood. Some beauties must be seen with naked eyes to believe, as not all art can produce such refined exquisiteness; to feel nature’s beauty is for some a thousand times greater than to see it.

The next season of the year lingers nearby, what subtle magic will it bestow upon us all? Ah, a majestic mosaic of every season’s loveliness, I can’t wait.

~ Amelia Dashwood

Image by Elena Tyn


3 thoughts on “August

  1. Love, love, love your poetic works of the heart! Discovered you on Facebook and was happy to find you here as well. Your poems stir up ancient memories from days of yore and yet they resonate with today’s world as well. Your words hold beauty, majesty and mystery. Thank you for them. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

Your feedback inspires me x

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