Flappers
I find myself in a
Magic garden
A place of my own choosing
A place born of imagination
Come, join me
The sun is out
The grass is soft
Beneath our bare feet
Birds interplay in such a
Way that my first thought
Is of ballet
What seems carefully choreographed
Is improvised in a
1920’s jazz style
We are all flappers
Thoughts
First mow of the year and the grass is a beautiful green. Shame most of it is moss but it looks pretty.
Here is a cow for no particular reason.
© John Monaghan 2026. All Rights Reserved
