summer in north devon

sonnet | 5 minute free writing

my finger taps will never tap you away 
long brown curls, hay bales and salt air 
my mind finds you there, golden with a beauty spot
your curls in knots, our bare feet underneath trees or 

on the dash as I hug tight my knees, at Westward Ho! 
there was a place for you and me, condensation on the windows
a cottage with chicken feathers strewn around
spy holes for watching rabbits thumping the ground

my heart raced ahead, entered every cul-de-sac that would see it dead
wildflower seedlings in the tiny garden, collecting moths so not to harm them 
the butterflies on my back never taught repair, only made me run
my mind was the pointed gun

my dreams take me back to before
I wish I had known how to give you more 

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thank you for reading x