Like this:

This is a new poem that I have written about an event that occurred a couple of years ago. After going to a forest rave in the Welsh hills (I think it was on the edge of the Brecon Beacons), a group of five of us took a little trip up a woodland track to a stream we knew about nearby. By the time we got there the sun was really blazing down, and everything around us seemed to be in a sort of hyper-colour. The sky was so blue and the trees so green, and the sound  and sheen of the stream seemed to lift me up to a higher level. There are some good pictures of the stream somewhere, but I can’t find them (EDIT: I found one, it’s posted below), so for now I have attached a picture of the party itself to this post.

There is also another poem, more spiritually inclined, that I wrote immediately after the event. I will post this next. Here is the newer poem:

 

 

The trees

they shimmered

as though under a watery sheen,

 

Green leaves glittering

in a gentle caress

of breeze through the river-run

valley.

 

Below them we clambered

naked on rocks

and splashed clear water onto grassy

banks.

 

The five of us,

two couples and I:

alone

but free,

we laughed as the droplets

rolled down our young skin.

 

The thumping of the party

left an hour hence,

sounded in the distance,

As we made ourselves clean;

sleepless and slippery in the morning sun.

 

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