When the wind abates
Earth her claw relents
From pounding gusts
That tear
Wreck and havoc make
Of plants torn from their roots
flattened
Cast adrift
Stricken vessels in the night
A spun whirlpool of debris flung
Of shredded leaves and twigs
And grasses arched like waves
Fall limp in strands
And spent;
Listen to the noise
Feel the shifting sands
The pounding starts again
Creaking corners of the house
The trembling of the frames
Flickering distant lights
The night is long- awake.
Late Frost in May
The soft dust of icing
In the valley
Shrunken to the margins of the fields
Laid down in stealth through the
Darkened hours
A purple stillness which
Later to the sun will yield
And warmth will reign the day along
For now the sky is powdery and cool
The ground compact and hard.
Golden Flourish
Golden,the final flourish under
The billowing stratus cloud,
Captures a Midas touch
As if a net is cast
And the light is flung into space
By an almighty hand,
Blessing the Earth in beauty
As pigeon and dove sit still,
The cows again are silenced
In deepening shades of green
As the wind from the East abates
At the ending of the day.
Over the Hedge
Arrow of the Geese
Arrow of the geese
Direct in
In squadron stream
A grandeur befitting of the day
A royal fly past in salute.
From Fell to Mountain
Transition from fells to Mountainside is stark;
Suddenly the air is sharp-
Sinking temperature;
Silence - total silence;
Gone the chatter of the larks
Muted, the white dots of lambs far below,
Simply the scuff of tread on stone, The crunch over stems of spent heather
And steady deliberate breath;
As the angle changes
And the mighty outline
Of sandstone rocks juxtaposed
Is exposed;
An eminence in angular form
Towers above
And carves out the sky.
Find a Way
Even the most complicated labyrinth
Can find a path
If we can take a lead to find a way.
Drawn to Wander
Drawn to wander through a gate marked PRIVATE;
Enticed to see what lies beyond;
Curiously tempted is
The eye to what might be.
The Mighty Oak
This has taken a while to perfect – it came from a walk last evening down a twisting lane and the size of this tree commanded such a presence over the valley. Speaking to our host, he tells me that he always greets this tree and wonders himself what the tree has witnessed over the centuries.
The mighty oak
Commands the view
Huge in girth,the ages span
Secrets tightly held within-
Carrying the map of a life on its skin,
A heart,concentric in finely banded rings
When wide,signals a year of plenty;
Narrowed the scars of misfortune emptied,
Growing through famine and tempest strengthened;
In civil war, a poet’s tune
Plain heard across this upland scene
Through the canopy of green;
And lamentations of shepherds’ dreams
Have presented laboured to those heavy boughs,
Recalling storms, of winters long:
Ewes who strayed,the price is wrong
Of lambs a year along
And moonlit meetings held in song;
In its shadow, messages whispered , A lover’s tryst;
As carts and gigs rattled so,
Servant girls, that way have passed,
lingering there to gossip fast,
A breath to last;
Train whistle; rattling tram,
Came and went in puffs of smoke
This tree breathed the fumes of coal and ore
Cleaned the air that would choke
The mighty Coity oak;
Through change and centuries
Strength imbued
And strong and mighty has it grown,
Now most quintessentially known
A king upon the pastoral throne .
Coity Mawr
Descending down from lofty mountain grandeur
Below the stark outline of the Dramatic ridge
A verdant valley
Softened still by signs of Spring
Unfurling leaves and the
Plaintive call of lambs
Flanked with green growth in
Poignant urgency
Beneath which
A slower pace is found;
Concealed,
The Woodland Secrets of
Anemone and violets
Carpet
Moss covered walls glistening with Beads of water
And creep
Through steep woodland banks
Cloaked in ivy ;
As ancient tracks wind their way
Down in timeless fashion,
A secret drive where all is still
Hugs the valley side
Hidden from all,
but those who know,
Those gates of
Coity Mawr
She sits in quiet regal elegance
A time- worn precious jewel.
Ruth Partridge 