A ribbon of silkDrapes the foldsOf moorland slopesBreathtaking is a magenta glowEnding a day of gold. Because we face West and sit on the 300m contour, some of our sunsets are simply breathtaking.
Tag Archives: Dartmoor
And so the Dragon sleeps
The dragon sleeps at set of sun Its silhouette outstretchedAgainst the moorland ridgeBurnt orange, smoked and flecked In fiery glowThis dragon’s breath That stills the eveningEnchants the airNo sword be drawn But rest.
Waiting for Rain
The night is darkUnusually so Gone are the meteorites The great celestial showThe fireworks of the skyThere are no stars Instead in stillnessJust a breath of wind Wafts through the open windowA welcome coolnessOn a summer’s night The distant clatter of a train Over Aish crossingPunctuates the intervalsUnder the cloud The silence seems poisedWe areContinue reading “Waiting for Rain”
Winter’s Vice
In silent stance the ice holds still,Branches stilled; Spiked shards fringe each boughin pearlescent white;Stiff snow cloaks mounds of earth,Each bearing tiny crested peaks and troughs defined by rivulets of soil;There’s a crunch beneath one’s feet:A footprint left,Of others too;Angular crossings over the land-Journeys made visibleFor all to see;A scent pervades in the the stillnessContinue reading “Winter’s Vice”
Wolf Moon
I think I can almost hear the wolf’s haunting cryAside the baleful cows’ lamentFrom the shaft of light On the old barn roof.The break of dawn aglowLights the moorland ridgeA soft yellow shimmers on the crestAnd yet I do not see;The sky a shimmering teal A tease of fantasy or tale.I lie and watch theContinue reading “Wolf Moon”
Their Space, Our Space
Where we live Borrowed views Stretch the imagination;The thread of the lane over the hill, The upland ridge Or blanket of moorland fog;Always aware of our windswept ride And the light of the Western sky. Unique Is the position of our home;Though once those ancient stones Yielded No view,Sparing the inhabitants Of the prevailing windThatContinue reading “Their Space, Our Space”
The end of the day
A local view from here where we get some wonderful sunsets.
Glimpse through the Gate
brighter the day a golden orb alighting a Midas touch Acrylic on board Spent four days trying to get contrasts right and enable the top to talk to the bottom to make it convincing.
On Holne Moor
They mined for tinBeneath blue skiesWhere skylarks sing And swallows soarAnd call of summer home. Joyous the meadow pipit’s Undulated flight Low over tinner’s spoil Now clothed in gorsePink Heather driftsAlong the edgeOf long forgotten mining lore.Perky, the stonechat pair Bob between bush and mire.He bright and sporting red like hunting pinkShe a modest brownishContinue reading “On Holne Moor”
February Mist
When fog hangs over us , as so often it does on the 300 ft contour , why are we always surprised to find a different day as we drop down into the valley? Entrenched, enshroudedIn mist so thick The sun,obscured devoid of lightDarkened boughs hang lowUnder the rain -filled cloudLanes stain redAs mud leachesAndContinue reading “February Mist”
