The blush pink sky twists the forecastWrapping the clouds in ominous hueThere’s clarity in warningThe air is stillBirdsong is activeShrill cries of the blackbird cut throughToo sharp are the angulations of the fieldsCarving lines of clipped brown hedges with shards of goldAcid green are the fields Under the low winter sunTransient patterns About to changeContinue reading “Red Sky in Morning”
Well another year of highs and lows. The Highs : publishing my book of poetry -, the arrival of whippet puppy Pepper , our daughter’s graduation which had been postponed for a year, the new greenhouse for the garden. The lows 12 months ago today we said a final goodbye to Dad at a covidContinue reading “Happy New Year”
Whilst spume filled waves pound the harbour wall Grey seals languish in the swirling greyFluid their bodies move in time to the surge of the sea in effortless syncopation A dive beneath the huge waves Refutes the dangers so close to rocks Rising with silver fish aloftRolling over and over in playA tide waits forContinue reading “Man and Nature”
Old trappings blow through the fingers of the wind Memories cling to bare branchesAs the ivy curls braidsAnd ties bows.Winter sharpens the breath of timeAnd the cold cuts stealGeese shout songs on the wing.Through darkened daysFoxed and etched Light is a silvered mirror-A reflection of who we areAnd who we are to be.The focus shiftsToContinue reading “Through Darkened Days”
calligraphieslines traced in swirls of black inkmessengers of love Loved present wrapping this year in a more sustainable way.
it peppers the skyhammering against the glassa gaoler of light
they flewinto the sunsetshepherding light En Mass
Poised and waiting the walls creakSqueezed by the cold The silence thickensWith anticipation.Cutting the voidPierces a hollow faltering sound,A fragile lineWhich grows like a flame,Wicking its way to the barrelled heights,Filling the spaceHarmonic and melodious.Where once there were manyJust two fill the quire.Something stirs.Are the walls awakened once again?Where are the ghosts?There is no whereContinue reading “There is Music”
Pepper’s first run off the lead on Dartmoor. Fresh footedOver grassy moundsShe steps lightlyDiscovering the new;Through her eyesAll is new,The grass greener The wide skyThe sharpness of the rockDeep pools of waterBlackened by peat;Energy burstsFreedom is foundReturn on the whistle Side by side.
Flurries of sleetRainbows and sunSlices of silverMirror the viewGolden the leavesSilently driftDownstream On Advent tide.