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.






Fan Y Big, Brecon Beacon Mountain Range

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 .





The giant oak below Coity Mawr

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.

Fathers

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 familiar Sound

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.