What secrets do you arbours keep, what would you tell us if you would speak.Tales and history down the years would they encumber and wreath us with tears.

laced in fog
In early morning’s drape of lacy fog you watch an early riser and his dog wandering under your leafy ceiling delighting in an ethereal feeling.
Peeping from the branches green tiny pixies can be seen preparing a byre for their fairy queen. Later as the sun climbs high and birds wield about in the blue skies. Workers sit and take their rest, in the shadows that your leaves and branches cast the best.
Skipping carefree homeward bound amid your trunks school children can be found. Happy games they like to play at the end of their school day.
After tea the mother’s stroll with their babes in prams they roll. Innocent eyes first glances see of lush green leaves above them as a canopy. Tiny fingers, tiny toes basking in the warm evening sun’s glow.
As the night descends the birds beginning to roost and join all their friends. The woodland creatures prance around in one last play before, for safety they go to ground. They all love their arbours cover as do now the human nocturnal lovers. They, all full of passion join their bodies lips and groin. The soft green grass supports their backs they watch the star through the branches cracks. Their boudoir all free and clean this arbour which is all fresh and green.
What secrets do you arbours keep, what would you tell us if you would speak.Tales and history down the years would they encumber and wreath us with smiles and tears.

Cathedral of blue and green