A sheltered spot A glimpse of spring Deep in the Cornish valleyA sheltered spot-Belied the hope. Yet overnight the frost Strikes sharp Though clear the day Weak the sunFirm ground to walk The East wind driesAs forecast tellsOf storms and galesThe weathervane slowsAnd ambles roundThe jet stream patternSets the sceneOf change.
Tag Archives: poetry
Trees under low sun
Liquid gold drips off ringed branchesIntense the molten sun at end of day Projects its show against the Naked form of larch The boughs laden with golden tressesAdorned with necklaces of amberCrisp the airAn hour from dusk.
Light
If all around the sphereWe call home seems to be About to fall from the skyAnd through shielded palmsWatchWe who fearful areThe ever changing tideWill seek to overwhelmAll thought and reasonYet if we stop awhile And look aboveA strength of blue defines The stratosphereWhilst blue is dayAnd sun is warmthHope comes from light That lightContinue reading “Light”
My Foot in Theirs
Orginally written for the Earle Richardson Ekphrastic Review Writing Challenge: https://www.ekphrastic.net/ekphrastic-writing-challenges My Foot in Theirs Could these be footprints long hardened in rock ? I wondered as I stepped on the mound; The lives once defined in the sand- coloured clay, Hard spent under the glare of the sun. I closed my eye to imagineContinue reading “My Foot in Theirs”
Tanka for Snow Moon
White disc in the sky Marbled face like granite hewn Elegance alignedBalanced over moorland ridgePersonified by sunlightIn celestial orb unveil.
Wild Flight of the Geese
Contours slip from a worldParallel and synchronised in beatAnd motion Their flight is straightSuspended in the voidHalf arrowed in formationSkimming the rooftopNear-grazing the slateMighty Hercules of the flight Heavy with beat of the wingNo navigation aid to site Still and blue Their playground isDriven on by diurnal forceOver the edge with Complete precision Tattooed wingChartsContinue reading “Wild Flight of the Geese”
Snow Moon
Snow- white she risesResplendent and poisedQueen of the heavensJewel of the sky.Haloed and frostedSilent and boldHunger moon knownBy tribes long ago.This ancient of spectres Storm moon and Chaste Known by our ancestors.Ghost white and laced.
Running Home
Poems always start when I’m out running . Tonight I took this picture at 4km and the light was going – I ended up doing 9.5km and the last stretch up the ‘ thinking lane’ was in total darkness to our house on the ridge. Darkness enveloped Just primroses lit the wayBranches mirrored in blackenedContinue reading “Running Home”
Beauty in stillness
Filigreed fans of oak, ash and elm Grace the topsOf wire- sculptured formsThe eye is drawnTo the ridgeTo the wide collage Under light-spangled stratus The smell of the sap rising Olfactory spiralsTrail to the stratosphereLouder the birdsong seems ClearerUrgent The narrative is changing.
Subtle Change
Tightly wrapped From sight AmidstA world preoccupied Beneath leaden skies and rainA sense of stealth prevails In the darknessAcross a slightly lengthened dayA stirring The pallid canvas is being alteredWith strokes of greenA snowdrop carpet covers the soilSmudge of yellow stain marks early daffodilsSubtlety in detail There was no announcement made.Not fully light And theContinue reading “Subtle Change”
