Metallic light of cloudy grey cracked open the quiet lane uninhibited hedgerows encroach narrow black road of soft edges bejewelled with the last night's rain arching brambles tempt the sentient with dark voluptuous promises each black fruit a conglomerate of unforbidden globes of juice the gifts unpicked in the country lane.
From the sky the peace is broken bird song calls in the drone of Ryan Air passage of noise pollution softened by distance and cloud the evidence of late night wild life seen in their empty vessel deposits where the nocturnal fledglings meet to imbibe the nectars fermented autumn gatherings learning to fly adult life clandestinely drunk from a can.
The road rambles into the decline,
One way to go, nowhere else to be.
The fresh water hurries to meet the sand, to wash with it to the sea.
Golden stretch in stone green embrace beneath a blanket of grey,
Torn to reveal a flash of blue,
and a golden promise behind the hill.