by | May 9, 2013 | Poetry | 0 comments

Gillian sits at her table
A colouring pen in her hand
Filling in blanks on a picture
Transforming something so bland

She carefully keeps to the edges
Choosing each colour with care
Red for a cluster of roses
Yellow for daffodils there

Whilst people around her are chatting
Gillian still colours her book
Wanting to finish completely
Before anyone might take a look

She isn’t left out of the talking
But giggles and chatters away
Before turning back to her colours
That transform her pages from grey

As midges descend on the campsite
And a cooling wind starts to blow
The crowd start heading for shelter
And warmth of a fireside glow

With care she packs up her pencils
Felt tips, crayons and such
Whilst we have idled and chatted
Gillian accomplished so much


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