Noon, Midsummer (20.06.20)

A westerly wind

Throws its arms around my shoulders

A warm hug

While all the leaves

Laugh loudly

On this midsummer noon

A day flying bat over the pond

Mirrored by a dragonfly

Above the rust and ragged robin

Dances in time to distant drums

Young apples and old carp

The perfect balance

A snapshot

Of this midpoint on the solstice

 

On the hill they wait

Old stones counting songs

Till sunset

But here, in this warm breeze

Now the storm has past

I count my blessings

As the year moves on

 

 

Incandescence (Twelve Poems)

I have curated twelve poems from the last three years into a Microsoft Sway presentation, so it can be read on a device or phone. The poems are split onto four seasons to echo either their subject matter or when they were written. The first two, Nowadays and The String bag were written during this period of lockdown.

Incandescence

Twelve Poems

Go to this Sway

The Glowing Lanterns

This morning, early mist still rising

The river fields are lit with glowing lanterns

Hanging above the sweet meadow grass

Still full of faerie magic

There must have been a ball last night

Beneath these dandelion lamps

A waltz of wings and wild singing

With wine from drops of silver dew

Hedgerow birds are waking with a chorus

The river mist evaporating in the sun

But all across the rich green pastures

Glowing lanterns are still strung

Left alight for those who wake

Too early for the mortal world

There, in magic light they’ll stay

Beneath the glowing lanterns

The String Bag

I make a string bag from shiny twine
Because what else is there to do
Passing time, treading water
This slow labour of knots
Each a quiet prayer for us all to stay safe
Stay put, stay at home
Tying in memories of better times
Trying to remember, stringing out the hours
Not to read the headlines, not to be afraid
An octopus would be easier to contain
So I live in this moment
Gathering you up like lemons and limes
Holding you, holding it all in
A shiny bag I made of string

These Days

I walk in silence with the wind

Winding cold fingers through mine

‘We are wild and free, these days’

It whispers

My hair dances in the air

Unrestrained, flowing like birdsong

From the starlings and blackbirds

It sings for me

But my heart is as empty as the road

As heavy as the clay under my feet

‘Dig deep’, ‘Dig deep’

The passing finches sing, wild and free

The clock has not stopped yet

But the minutes and seconds have gone

Only unwinding hours, uncounted days

Where time is measured in footsteps

I walk in silence with the wind

Winding cold fingers through mine

‘We are wild and free, these days’

‘Dig deep’, ‘Dig deep’

Celandine Sings

A new set of poems/songs.

Some poems from 2019, The Heart Whisperer, Netsuke Dream, Uncluttered, Now

Just updating with some poems from last year, still part of the 'Sticker' set. One is about a dream I had about netsukes. I read it and it still makes no sense, I guess that's dreams for you! Looking forward to using these and all my poems more creatively this year...

The Heart Whisperer

You won't notice the difference at first

Just the smallest of change

Quieter than the breath of a candle

A ripple across a pool

Nothing to see here

But you will see it

Later rather than sooner

Long time later

It will be clear

I was there with you in that midnight place

Though you don't remember

I will always be there for you

Now, in the sunlight you laugh

Putting it all behind you

Moving forward, stronger than before

A bright bowl full of hope

There was something someone once said...

And you will wonder who it was

And I will smile and say

It must have been the heart whisperer

Netsuke Dream

I dreamt of two dolphins and two seals

Near the grey granite waterfront

Red, black, grey and white mottled under a crystal blue sea

And as they swam past, these strange pairs

They told me these things

Dolphins:

We see ourselves as small whales

Our skin is the colour of jasper and obsidian

We are your ocean cousins

You see our form in your mind

Our needle nosed beak and round bellies define us for you

But we are superior because

We are talking to you in your sleep

Seals:

Their eyes stare into me

Profound and unfathomable

As deftly drawn as any high tide

And as smooth as a polished stone

They are talking  

But not in any language humans know

I can see what they mean though

Here I am

Stranded high and dry on the grey ground

While they are still free

Uncluttered

The estuary sparkles

Crystal cut waves and yachts

Vying for attention

Wind tunes stir in the tall firs

And the air

Full of the cobalt sea

Feels uncluttered

Here, we are certain of the tide times

Of shells in the sand and hairpin roads

Leading only to water

No running against the traffic

And running out of change for the parking

No corridors full of coffee and despair

Air conditioning and the wrong lift doors

Life all gone wrong on the wrong floor

Clutching at hopeful straws

Caught in the clutter

Trying to keep our heads

Above the tide of our turning health

For a moment our feet

Are in clear water

Searching rockpools

For small fry under a blue sky

And the air

Full of the cobalt sea

Feels uncluttered

Now

A tidal flow of ideas

Each generation finding expression

For the herald's song

While one hand pulls down the old stones

Another shores up the walls of love

And where we meet for a moment

Now, our feet on different roads