I had to slip this one in for the dverse prompt, even if it’s not on the list—flourish. stealth. enamels is where I live.
We came here by stealth like the fox and the hare;
we moved where no one had dreamed that we’d dare,
so far from the noise and the crowd.
Between oaks and poplars and bright running stream,
the flowers we planted now flourish, a dream
of sun through a break in the cloud.
Where bramble and dog rose wind their sharp trammels,
and kingfishers, damselflies dart bright enamels,
the stream rushes cheerful and loud.
And we watch as the leaves fall, the swallows all flown,
digging a life into clay we’ve not sown,
the peace of our meadow unploughed.