Hierarchy was lost

Photographing sunshine on the frosted rose-hips

These rose-hips hadn’t been teased by the birds, they were crimson and bright and tickled in light,

You see I saw the red beads as a sign just before nine

I knew the sun would stretch itself long and fly, turning into sugar against the sky

a rough web of branches in colours of ice and all things spice

and I juggled with the sun, the time and other sublime,

I tilted my hat and kneeled where I’d sat to catch it all before it could fall

I shan’t mourn, for hierarchy was lost in the patriarchy of frost when this day was born;

There were bright pearls, diamonds in whirls, carats of gold and ribbons of silver not to be sold

and that is the sight which was such a delight before it took flight…

~

Happy weekend lovelies,

Rose hips in frost by @naturtorque