In dreams my blossom on floundering scaffold
Each branch so tender and green
The winds will stir and seek to unfold
Her beauty hidden in folds unseen

The sun does call a wonderful song
The season ripe like a ******
But still she dances in strides long
To music, love's first-time sin

It's I who dreamed the dream of you
     It's I will pluck the flower too

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
mine)* and it wanders over
the slopes and valleys
of my own
wildernesses
I think of you
in plains and grasslands
sleekly wet in mountain curve
as you coolly crack the
earthly fissures
of my heart  quakes
inside
morning light
you transverse
your poetic speak
deep inside my night
your are always with me
in seeping pinpoints
of brightness
of gentle storms
you rock my dark to sleep
you are present
not obsessively
yet strongly
the way people describe
alcohol in veins
you regularly cut them
open, my heartstrings
you strum upon
their vibrations
like waves of calm
intoxication
lulling me
into gentle earthquake
pleasure and centered
breaths
leaving pieces rocking
throughout
my bloodflow back
up interspersed
between beats
i carry you
(that heart of yours)
in my heart
and I treasure
this residence
you have taken up
in my desert
blooms
faraway touch of lips
makes
pulse quiet
in soft booms
your voice soothing
storms
and you i like
sweetly in
my pulse
as seeds just
grow
i carry your heart
inside mine all day
your voice soothing
storms
my raging river
in your flow

He  stays  with  us  in  winter  storms
And  when  the  garden's  bleak
He  hops  around  in  sleet  and  hail
Appearing  pale  and  weak.

But  once  the  days  begin  to  lengthen
And  the  worst  of  winter's  gone
He  perches  high  up  in  a  tree
And  begins  his  joyful  song.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

Spring  is  now  resting.
After  some  lovely  spring  days.
It  is  now  snowing.
Typical  British  weather.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK  2016.