Rachel J Bowler's photos with the keyword: Lightwoods Park

Floating on the weight Of hope, Winter flattens The echoes of morning. At the juncture I imagine finding you, Sometimes picturing you In the concealing distance, Which obscures Any chance Of finding you Once more.

When will the disregarded blossom come? When will the sun dazzle anew? When will the sky fill with power blue?

Past the bandstand, To the bird house And bowls players, My mother sits On a sunny day. Everything is Pink, white and yellow. I watch from my pram. Later She tells me To be careful As I swing as High as I can. By the time you Join me on the path The dusk has settled, Evening has already Fallen, And we take solace In the fairground Until the night Begins.