A Raconteur Girl Production

Posts tagged “journy


On Sunny Days


Black - Mick with windmills 09.10.2010


On Sunny Days



It must be said, has to be confessed

It’s on sunny days that I love the lowlands best

The unending brilliant green where cream cows graze

Off in the distance hanging, the downy soft of a misty haze


Standing gazing, the weathered gnomes of yesteryear

Faces lifted to wherever the fickle wind may steer

Thatched coats browning as they warm in the gentle sun

Like creatures from the damp earth, freshly sprung


poppies amongst the green


Hundreds of little girls dressed in red, peeping

Through green curtains from the beds where they’ve been sleeping

Poppies playful amongst the nettles and the green

Smile and giggle, sing and dance, whenever they are seen


Beautiful flirting ladies curtsy to each other

Until they are plucked and taken to the ball by some ardent lover

Gowned in pinks and yellows and purples and every colour in between

Fields of tulips are amongst the loveliest sights ever seen


black happy flowers


Skies are kissed and left blushing pink

A beautiful canvas stretched as the stars fade and sink

A sleepy morning sun rises slowly to cover the rift

The early riser grateful to be given such a gift


black Windmill in the Mist



Hopping among the flower boxes with which every house is dressed

Little birds are busily feathering their nests

Stopping to trill and sing as they explore, never at rest

Geraniums and roses and daisies, against windows pressed


Shimmering leaves of white cloth catch a whispering breeze

As they float, bobbing across meadows like they were seas

Little boats with sails aloft rise above the green

Surreal and tranquil and ever serene


Canals are spun across landscapes like silver thread

An intricate maze, a spiders wandering web

Taking the boatman where ever he may choose

Along whose peaceful banks fishermen snooze


Through forests and meadows and down ambling lanes

Barrel two wheeled chariots with grandma frames

Along busy cobbled city streets he works and plays

The fiets is king of the kingdom, forever and always


black john keats summer days



The forests are green in the month of June

The scent of the sea drifts beckoning over the dunes

Giant seagulls call in ancient language to their young

Songs that for a millennia have been sung


Little princes build their castles down on the sand

Maidens bathe and minstrels play, while lovers stroll hand in hand

Here tired souls come to let go and fly free

Down by the waters of the ever changing, ever rolling, sea


black 12.And the sun is going down slowly


Waves crashing along the shore

The late setting sun proclaims the summer once more

Fire descends, burning into the sea

And the winds of change are set tumbling free


Autumn is a magnificent scene as old leaves fall

Their scent fills the air as trees bare their all

Carpets laid down of orange and gold and red

The comforting rustling sound of joy at every tread


Warm and Cozy, so lazy at a summer days end

Companions with whom to laugh and share and lend

Tales are told as bread and bitterballen and pints of beer are sought

Here Gezellig is not just a word, it’s a life philosophy that’s taught


black DSC08297


But cold winter days can be gezellig too

Outside snow falling, covers and presents a clean, soft view

While inside a fire crackles and laughter fills a room

Wine and merry conversation making every cheek glow and bloom


Like a gleaming crystal chain of silver and grey

That some giant plucked from his neck and threw away

The canals are resplendent where frozen they lay

Echoing calls as skaters twirl and play


black 10 - Mick skating



Gentle rain soothes as it falls in gossamer sheets

Knocking gently at the windows through which it peeps

While inside candles burn flickering, long and low

And homes become havens of colour, warmth and repose



black Mick the guitar Man



But then when grey clouds clear and golden rays shine through

Suddenly the world outdoors looks fresh and new

Tulips flirt, birds sing, and old gnomes stand tall

And the sea keeps beat, playing along with it all


Sails unfurl, fishermen snore

As the webs of silver invite and entrance once more

Seagulls call soaring through skies of blue

And sunshine again turns green meadows to a brilliant hue



black Texel in April 2011 (48)


Such days make it impossible not to admit

So I have to give in, it’s too hard to resist

I have to confess, I have to say

I do love the lowlands just that bit more on sunny days






– for my lowlands guy… Mickey D

who makes everyday a sunny day for me ~