bullets of rain ricochet into the darknesssomewhere along the A38location is vaguedrawn am I to the side of the roadfor familiar landmarksheadlights haloand stream white lightat odd anglesJuxtaposedThe road is liquidobsidianInto oblivion
drizzlethe expectation evaporates
Warm air gusts through the open windowCurtains billowListen to the soughing of the treesImagine the curled dried leavesFallingStill the rain does not come.
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”
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”
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.
To run Is instinctive,The fresh air Coursing through; Finding energy Where first there is none;To tread the lanes As day is done;Though tired, to feel renewed,Spurred on by the towering clouds behind, The wind coursing in the pines Grey sky darkening Squeezing out the light; The onset of a stormy night.Yet invigorated, energised,With wind inContinue reading “Grey Sky darkening -Evening Run”
Creeping somewhere between Day and Night Clarity obscured but Strangely visible Sound there But audibly differentSenses dulled and cloudedSharpened by drips off treesBent stems flopped forwardFlower over flowerPetals strewn confetti On sodden grassAn absence of birdsGives way to a feeling of emptinessChanging states One path crosses another But the end cannot be seen.
Shower after shower circles these shores Sweeps over the moorsFlattening the brackenSheep shelter for coverSkylarks stop singing New streams are filling Dancing down the slopesRedefining the mapShimmering against the purple heather Green growth is abundantBut flowers faded have fallenLeaf strewn lawns traversed by molluscs not humansAnd the wind chases the cloudsEver strengtheningRaindrops keep growing inContinue reading “And Falling”