Hare 2

Bold in the lane 
Totally still 
A statuesque form 
Aligned to a bronze
Cast by the evening sun
Exhibit 2
Then... 
Alerted 
It’s ears twist and  are raised  
Like a muntjac from behind 
So raised are the hind legs
Gear changed and foot down 
Shower gravel as they spring
Burning rubber on a sixpence 
Through the gateway and gone.

Stormy Seas

The sea churns 
With spun sugar-whipped foaming energy 
Fixing salt spray on the lips;
The gull on the fingers of the wind
Is held in suspension
As the waves roll and retreat
Like the Tuppenny slot machine of the arcade,
Relentlessly mechanical in motion: in and out
Drawing the sand from the bed of the sea 
In a serge of reddish soup 
Hewn from  Jurassic cliffs:
Remorseless the anger is  until
The lion lies down with the lamb.
Sidmouth, East Devon

Guinea Fowl

They arrived last evening, 
Nonchalantly walking along the verge, 
Bobbing red heads held high
Owning the road,
So passers by stopped and asked if they were ours-
A pair with 
Quirky gait 
And funny call (not the passers by)
Of ‘Chi Chi Chi,’
And ‘Come back here;’ 
I’ve never cared to look at 
guinea fowl before- 
They made me smile,
More suited to wide African  Savannah plain not tarmac road,
And Devon rain,
Large and strident;
So different from my domestic fowl 
They made no move to go
Except to be shooed away from 
A passing  car;
Later I went out to see-
Soft was their chatter
Back again,
High up in our trees;
Independent  they seemed,
Confident these
Uninvited guests;
Strangely I don’t think they 
Are suited to stay-
Perhaps they’ve moved on  by now.

Rain 2

Again the wind roars 
The rain lashes 
Across in straight lines 
The torment comes 
In the grey light of dawn
A driven energy 
A pounding invasion 
Quietened  are the birds
Taking refuge in the hedge
Their song
Replaced by the strengthened gusts
Gone is the gentleness of evening
The rain driving in an angled veil
Intensifies in rhythm of a snare drum on the roof
The mist that envelops
Tumbling  down the hill into oblivion.

Gentle Rain

Steady and deliberate drops fall 
Patterning the surface of the soil
In stippled pattern
Releasing 
The intoxicating sweet smell of fungal spores  
Evocative of rare still nights  
The air hangs 
The sound mesmerising
Intensifying
The garden in secrecy awaits
Refreshment
Without torment
Of wind and storm. 
Tonight the soil will be replenished
The plants nourished
Nurtured with care.



When we are lost


Reason- there is no reason
We cannot comprehend;
Where there was certainty 
There lies a gaping hole-
An emptiness too big to fill;
Reason - there is no reason-
We want to shout it out.
We cry without sound.
It’s too big,
Our voice too small.
Questions, but no answers 
Drift on the breath 
Of  silence;
But listen- 
On the wings of the dove 
Peace descends,
In a still small voice
That fills the space; 
We are held 
When we are falling
By threads so fine
The strands that tie, 
That hold us fast
Where we belong; 
Connect us to those who love us still;
Beyond the mists  of time, 
We trace the stars across the sky,
The clouds that part,
The light that shines, 
And find our way 
That guides us home.


Storm

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.

Golden Flourish

Sun setting over Ugborough Beacon ,Dartmoor 
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.