Who am I

Perhaps the gentle breeze;
a zephyr carrying the smell of woodsmoke
on a winter'��s morn. The whisper of tyres on a distant road.

The crack of dawn;
bringing first light, gently awakening you from sleep;
rushing meltwater tumbling down a mountain side.

Tyrrhenian blue skies;
echoing with the greeting cries of aerial hunters;
gladdening your ears, smiling your lips, lighting your eyes.

Maybe that distant,
indistinct figure who raises a friendly hand
as we, ploughing our lonely furrow, pass like ships at sea.

A taste of red,
enjoyed while being fascinated by mesmeric
dancing flames of a log fire, in a grande Maison. Ah, "�� La Belle."��

I may not be,
any of these things, but I have; tasted felt, seen,
all of them; they are part of me, and you are welcome to share them with me.

R

Bravo!

incredible don't stop

Mo, L.L'A's book taught me to speak of what I'd seen, which in this
case was rural France.

" M" thank you very much. Where you live would have helped you
understand exactly what I was writing about. I am continually trying
to live in the , "moment" and hear, see etc., what is going on around
me.

Bill