In the Garden- beneath our Feet

Hewn by worm castsAnd labouring forkSifted through the gardener’s hand The dampness lingers under ancient fernsYet to be unfurled;A primeval world ofSweet fungal sporesConnected to the dawn of timeOf process and precisionAnd small detail;Tiny seedlings pushing throughLifting crumbs and flakes of barkand stonesInconspicuousBut with power to change;Drawn from darkness To a world of light;A gentlenessWhereContinue reading “In the Garden- beneath our Feet”

From the Forest Floor

Drawn on whispered breath Of windThe scent of pineOn upturned branchesCaressed by The sentimentOf a winter sunChanneling the Powder blueFunnel of sky.Spent leaves of AutumnSpun into Drifts ofGold carpetCrunchUnder soft feetStartling a wood pigeonBreaking the spell. When we escape the wind, mist and rain that we’ve had all day and venture North East 30 minsContinue reading “From the Forest Floor”