So often awake at 4am to which I pen a few lines in the darkness – watching , always watching as the eye becomes accustomed to the dark . It is only then that I realise that dark has many forms and colours . Night vision is so depleted in us of the modern world.Continue reading “From Night to This”
An iridescence tops spun waves Foaming on the shoreline;I am near blinded by the light Of the setting sun;Heaven’s halo Between the island and the shore;The warmth and depth of the Autumn starBrings heaven to earthIn proximity,This liminal placeTwixt land and sea.
Breakfast outside RegardlessSummer as taut as An elastic bandFully stretchedEeking outThe last hoursAlready there is change;How we have grown to fear it.The threads ofHalcyon days by sea or river Begin to sever their clarityAs memories mergeAnd leaves fall to the ground;Expectations out-way the reality.There’s a slight chillIn the airA soughing onThe fingers of the windCloudsContinue reading “The Last Breakfast”
Evening light drawn acrossPatchwork fieldsEdged in woven linesOf greenA chequered pattern Spanning the valleySheep graze silentlyOn the steep slopesBeneath the pastel skyPinks and mauvesTouching the hillsAlone in the stillnessOf a pastoral sceneUnchanged.
Silent thoughts tumble Evaporating on the fingers of the windThe damp air enshrouds the world in whiteThe steady saturation of mist Seeps throughThe parched landCloaked from viewFilling the soulReplenishing the spiritOf the earth.
The sky hides the story Grey and resoluteMist and windBelying the climate change.
Only the bat is nebularTheir streaming shadows play the remaking of a light show; Serotine ,Pippestrelle or HorseshoeForms identified by ear or furPersonified in mystery inSoft bodied perpetual motion With a fleeting glimpseA powdered spectre;Flight At dawn or dusk.Yet through the nightThe shadows play against the glassIn liminal motionRetreating and oscillatingBack and forthA mesmerising displayIfContinue reading “Bats”
At the stirring of the birds in morning As the world, its breath is held When those murmurings are forming And the monochrome is framed in gold.The cows still sleep- their forms striated Across the fields the colours merge Before these words are scribed,the sky is rendered Draws a curtain up to clarify the view.
My hands deep in the earth-Stained and wornWhere air is heavy and intense from spores released with rain;I watch fine droplets streaming down new leaves Arched over with weightAs fronds of fernsWith Prehistoric curlHang lowIn communion with Dog-toothed violet;Where faded primroses nodTo bluebells near purple in their Intoxicating intensity;The old fork is proppedReady to liftContinue reading “Observations in the Woodland Garden”
Beautiful afternoon for watching the beach and eating shellfish alfresco at the Winking Prawn . A postcard view within a snapshot But sit awhile and observe the flowTowards the shoreline Down and upExceptEyes skyward, a whippet follows a disc In predictable line of anticipated retrieval across the wet sandBreaking the mirrored surfaceAvoiding the flow CloudContinue reading “Observations on a Postcard”