English tearoom

A gentle breeze plays through my hair
as I sit and contemplate the view,
boats bobbing gently on the waves
beneath blue skies, whilst clouds scud by,
nudging memories that lay just out of reach.
Faces, shapes and sounds flit by
like butterflies, too agile to catch
and too fragile to hold.

I sit and gaze, teacup in hand,
breathing the delicious scent of
crumpets oozing hot butter,
relaxing in the midday sun
and chasing butterflies
through the fields of my mind.