Dora Kazmierak will photo nature scenes for endless hours, sometimes in the rain. My poem attempts to find the key to her drive and celebrates her passion for the countryside…
Down big house drive you ambled,
woodland, pansies and plain bramble,
passive cattle gazed and munched,
grit under your wellingtons crunched.
Now reduced Mount Ievers estate,
curved walls welcome, entrance gates
show rusty shapes; raindrops lurk,
cobwebs stitch the tatty ironwork.
Finely focussed your analytical gaze:
views framed, apertures appraised;
you tramped fields alone for hours:
ecstatic eyes framed bluebell flowers.
Scene-satiated, returning drenched,
endless quest only slightly quenched:
energised by this luscious landscape,
tireless your legs many acres traipsed.
Heart humming unspoken praise,
photos to enhance poetic phrase;
house history loved, well-captured,
fondly recalled those rural raptures.