I read of wild flowers
Becoming scarce, endangered, lost
Only to be found in verges
I thought this would be in the country
Where the fields are green and gold
But I found them next to the kerbside
Plains of asphalt and concrete
In Grey fields where poppies blow
Between the roads, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Under BeechWood 
Mandy and Myk, Beautiful words and images. Thanks for sharing these. It’s nice to know someone is noticing the beauty of the world out there… Lisa 🙂
LikeLike
Thank you Lisa, we are trying o build this site up… it’s neglected of late! But am going to give it some TLC. Thanks for noticing 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dear Mandy and Myk,
Beautiful words and images. Thank you for sharing these. It’s nice to know someone is noticing the beauty of the world out there. Lisa 🙂
LikeLike