Just what has happened through 70 years- Just what has changed? Yet what stands out clear Shown at the party in the Mall
The pictures on a house The pictures of a life For one who has given much For one who leads with love Our Queen through 70 years Constant through our fears Consistency in action A life with driven purpose A life of faith with service
We celebrate in style In a way our country can A nation drawn together A moment of rejoicing In poignant recognition Carnival and whooping National pride and affection Flags and decoration For seventy glorious years.
At the stirring of the birds in morning As the world, its breath is held When those murmurings are forming And the monochrome is framed in gold. The cows still sleep- their forms striated Across the fields the colours merge Before these words are scribed,the sky is rendered Draws a curtain up to clarify the view.
Our light sources may be different But we will all illuminate the earth.
Shards of light Splayed over green Jewels that spill An iridescent sheen. Of soft dove call Shrill robin tune Voices heard and Words unspoken Bring the morning in.
My hands deep in the earth- Stained and worn Where air is heavy and intense from spores released with rain; I watch fine droplets streaming down new leaves Arched over with weight As fronds of ferns With Prehistoric curl Hang low In communion with Dog-toothed violet; Where faded primroses nod To bluebells near purple in their Intoxicating intensity; The old fork is propped Ready to lift the clods of soil In time- worn fashion In this ancient part of the garden.
Beautiful afternoon for watching the beach and eating shellfish alfresco at the Winking Prawn .
North Sands Salcombe South Devon
A postcard view within a snapshot But sit awhile and observe the flow Towards the shoreline Down and up Except Eyes skyward, a whippet follows a disc In predictable line of anticipated retrieval across the wet sand Breaking the mirrored surface Avoiding the flow Cloud patterns sweep the shore In laminar flow As the water pools like a spill on the ground And carefree children trace their Route trailing bucket and spade In grooves made by sand worms To the water’s seamless edge A liminal zone with little distinction Before the paddle border takes the stage And the whir of the speedboats in the bay.
Like the careful opening of a gift A secret beauty is revealed Day by day subtle changes stir As textures fill and colours pop Amidst the tapestry of green Sherbert colours Open before our eyes Yet we do not see the change A paradox The effect is clearer Transformational as Easter joy Miraculous by perfection and design Resurrection and renewal of the earth.
Earth’s shores Those boundaries defined As sand slips silently away Neither land nor sea A liminal place Shape shifting Where nothing is solid Draws like the gravitational Pull of the tide To cast thoughts In anonymity To the waves Yet closer in fragility ensconced To the emphemeral nature Of the spirit Heard by the cry of the gull And all of heaven above.
Ruth Partridge 