Garden Swing

 Sitting on the garden swing

Sitting on the garden swing

Looking out to sea

Now the morning mist has lifted

Revealing sweet infinity. 

Gently rocking in the sun

The gift of August warming

Heart and soul, flesh and bones 

To the hymn of insect song

Sitting gently as I travel

Ten million miles around the sun

Each day a new beginning

In our solar system 

I’m rising then I’m  falling

In a sweet cadence

The sleepy midday heat  

Is softly climbing, soothing. . 

The fields and the meadows 

Fall silent at the noon

As the heat invades and plays

A lazy jazzy tune 

The apples are fast ripening

Their branches bending down

Like nuns in a quiet convent

Their leaves touching the ground 

This corner of fair Ireland

Proclaims a lasting  peace 

Open faces, wide open doors

Neath thatched roofs in Kilmore 

The lobster men sail with skill 

In boats painted red and green

Their bronzed arms hauling

The harvest from the sea. 

Back on my wooden swing 

There’s  a decision to be made 

To finish the grass I started

Or to down a gin and tonic.