


Flurries of sleet
Rainbows and sun
Slices of silver
Mirror the view
Golden the leaves
Silently drift
Downstream
On Advent tide.
Running in the slow lane
Flurries of sleet
Rainbows and sun
Slices of silver
Mirror the view
Golden the leaves
Silently drift
Downstream
On Advent tide.
a firing of the wind
from the north
early arrival
To walk a route where those have trod
O’r hundreds of years or more
To place a foot upon rough worn stones
That have stood the test of time
Many a packhorse crossed this way
Many a storm has surged
And yet this bridge endureth all
And rightfully is preserved.
hollow words
echo in the hills
Climate change
What a lovely autumnal day. With love from Blue and Ruthx
rides slice through orange
leaves crunch underfoot
focus sharpens
faded blooms of summer
dramatic Autumn light
a paradox
a writer’s hand
unfolding the story
the fog lifts
When starbursts earth to sky create
Spangled prisms light the dark
A myriad of memories
Rocket forth.
Salt spray and raucous noise
In the face
Dogs bark to the wind
The waves ebb and flow
Drawn back, curled low
Churning the Old Devon Sandstone
Sucked from under the red stained cliffs;
Erosion in drifts;
Scars tell the story
The coast path’s moved
Again.
Drawn are we to
The pebbled shore,
The shelving beach,
The pounding waves,
Whipped up swell;
Faces to the wind we breathe the salt
Under the spell
All is well.
insouciance of the wind
squall and shower
ensconced in climate change