The four winds blow, Mustering yet more strengthIn rallying war cry Powerful and StrongSweeping over bent grassCombing and creasing the hillInto ripples of spun icing; Trees are rocked and spun in Forceful gyrations prizing Naked branches apart.Building and retreating in monumental fashionRelentless in accomplishment.Refusing to abate.All through the nightTo the cold blue-greyAnd a view.debris castContinue reading “Storm 3”
I touch the walls of the ancient room,And feel the breath from another age. From here I glimpse the transient silvered moon;I trance dark clouds amidst storm -filled rage.The wind it thunders, though unrestrained;These walls of stories and secrets keptIn silence resolute unexplained,If only they awoke instead of slept.What stories are wrought which they couldContinue reading “Ancient Walls”
Most winter morningsThe cold blue light gives way to lightening skiesMost winter mornings the respite comesThis winter morning light flickersBefore extinguishingThrough a patchwork skyIn flickering array Cloud studded and ever movingLandscape of greyBuilding and growingSwelling to fill the wideness of Big skiesFingers of spent wind Clawing the branches of tired treesStark is the warning ofContinue reading “Most Winter Mornings”
With pulsating rain The strengthening wind is drawn through The blackest of nights;The mist swirls ribbons Like the jet stream trailAnd the windows rattle;Droplets course down the blackened panes in little streamsPooling on the ledge As the latch lifts and falls And curtains move in oscillating rhythm While heavy slates lift and dropMaking the wholeContinue reading “Old House :Winter Night”
All through the night – relentless and totally dark. Our 375 year house sits on a high ridge and it does feel like we are sometimes under siege . A gusting windExhales in bursts The rain Like knives spears the darkRicochets off ancient walls.To the keeper of the keys. The pulsating nightDrinks in thirstThe slatesVibrateContinue reading “Storm through the Night”
a firing of the windfrom the northearly arrival
When to the eye the lens is set It is to anticipateThe grey- pink cloudIt’s signal knownThat robin and blackbird silenced are The Kaleidoscope is turned againGreens to bronzed outlinesClouds to yellowed smokeThen, preceded by a poignant pauseAll nature heldIt comes With forceIn deliberate pulseBeats in the rhythm of the day.
The leaves set to fallAs rain it’s drops do showerRelentless from the sky Free flowing torrentsFrom the banksLeaching from the fieldsStreams of orangeStain the road.A hammering on the roofThe wind it does prevailWhipping itself around the house. Lundy , Fastnet,Irish SeaThe shipping forecast read.The storm it has arrived.ToSaving lives at sea.In readiness we were not-EekingContinue reading “Shutting the Door on Summer”
Surfing the clouds on the golden edgeAbove huge swell of smoke hewn driftsThe sun just dips behind Where Icarus are you?The line of the moor an etched grim Line of no responseOminous in presenceLarger in formThe battle in the skies Set.
Prelude to the orchestration Of the storm aheadLeaves pummelledAnd inverted like wrung outPrayer flagsLime green triangles That strain from branchesConfetti strewn on the lawnCauliflower -topped clouds Fringed goldenStream Battle lines drawnFor glorified war.