9 April – Liquid grace

Standing still at Studley,
the lake lulling blue at my feet,
thoughts rippling gently,
emotions lapping a quiet retreat.
When all at once, with a rush,
the whole herd crests the hill,
running as if all one stream,
pouring down the bank-side to fill
the vista with liquid grace
for a thrilling moment or two,
before flowing over the next rise
to the muted roaring of hooves.