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.
Tranquility of a new day Cool rose light of dawn Fresh breeze aloft an open window Running notes of birdsong Carried on the air; High up within ancient castellated walls Sheltered Serenity captures faded grandeur Enduring beauty In the midst of time.
Your father and mine- A lifetime of memories A lifeline that threads A story Through our lives; Fathers who set our paths and shaped them Selfless with love Encouragement and wisdom, Rebuking our misdemeanours Favouring honesty, Who gave us skills, who fashioned Our curiosity of ancestral roots;
Sharing their love of the sea and river, Of rocks and moorland, Of stars and planets And of the Emerald Isle;
Making connections Their memories became our memories, Making us who we are And who we are to be; As strands have been freed, Unsteady and adrift we feel- All at sea;
There is a gap, But not a void, For already A lifetime of memories Falls into that place Soft, soft as snow With stitching so fine As if upon gossamer silk; A lifeline that threads Between our world and theirs, Tracing rainbows through the rain, Steering our course As they always have done.
A call in the dark A familiar sound The cows went out last evening, Exuberant beyond all measure Overwhelmed by the space And the smell of spring grass; Like children Running and jumping Manoeuvring their giant frames In ungainly pursuit of jollity With unconfined pleasure After a winter in the barn; Tonight unease- Calling into the night Restless In need of security A familiar sound.
When we place our feet upon the shore We hardly know what’s there From recent falls and lowest tides Devonian fossils shared.
The rocks beneath the Otter Sandstone and Devon Mudstone Lying on the beach at low tide Salcombe Regis East Devon
Actually this fossil I now believe to be a bit earlier than Triassic – a Devonian brachiopod 409 million years ! So changed one word to fit in the poem !
The rides thinned and lightened; The majesty of trees revealed Arched in height and statuesque form Devoid of weight from summer’s clothing; Below, the forest floor Carpeted with native daffodils and wood anemones bestowed A reverential cathedral A hallowed place Punctuated by choral notes Of the river as it tumbles From the moor to the sea.
Twenty four hours Four-seasoned elements Wrestle with Banks of heavy cloud Traction a different rhythm Of snow flurries that sweep across Bent rows of daffodils; A north wind pummels The naked branches of the ash; Winter defies with its iron claw And blossom falls from plum and thorn; The buzzard swoops low over the fields in a whitish haze And disappears from view; And the clouds- their anvil edge of farrier’s steel- glinting Through spring warmth A fleeting sun And wind abating Before song birds retreat to the hedge And hail is released with orchestral precision, Beating a syncopated rhythm That dances on the stars of the celandines.
Drawn am I to childhood haunts, Memories of country dance on the lawns, Long afternoons on the sand. Nets and shrimps and boiling them in someone’s holiday kitchen by the sea; We went with people we hardly knew back then; Days were long and carefree; How many times have I walked that smart promenade and ,tired and hot, climbed the steep steps to the cliff path? Just that the grassy path has gone- Fallen to the sea And the gardens we walked behind- which always smelt of fermenting grass clippings- Now tumble over the edge Of the Jurassic coast- The compost heaps long gone; The coast has a fancy name Fossils drop when the gardens slide. Now we turn left at the top And Granny and Grandad’s cottage (one row back) are now on the official route- the path goes up their lane; The breathless walk by Grandad out to his favourite view has shortened- He’d like that! We always wished they had one of the houses opposite with the sea view, But now those have shrinking gardens And will one day be condemned; Yet Marley Cottage Is just the same- Black paintwork and wonky tiles, And Granny’s kitchen garden built into the bank at the back By the wooden gate,still there; The lawn is still square but Without Grandad’s stripes; How I loved to watch him roll the hand mower back and forth And bounce on the red space- hopper Up and down like a horse in the Grand National Did they ever dream like I do? Memories that take me back Like yesterday And pull me To the little town by the sea With emotion so strong that it scares me- a sense that I belong Even though I never lived there Just holidays till I was 8.
Tonight maybe two stars will shine More brightly than before Singing will be heard on the threads Of the heavens Fifty nine years together and now an anniversary sealed for the first time In twenty five Two lives who touched so many On their earthly journey Forever remembered Together for eternity. Joy just thinking Of celestial celebration Of angelic chorus Where time and space is perfect Unrestricted and free.
Ruth Partridge 