she thrived on silence
and the rustle of the trees when the wind
brought news of the world outside
her sheltered valley
she asked for rain to swell the river
which turned the wheels of her mill
and scattered seeds of barley and flax
among the fairy bells
she basked in sunlight
that ripened crops and turned her toes brown
and she grew old and wise
but still picked blackberries
that turned her mouth purple
and laughed when she felt like it
3 comments:
I could have lived like that. Alone and working hard at something I loved.
As could I :)
Yes, what Aims said. Lovely, Rachel.
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