how hypnotic
the sway of the greens
blurring and whirring
drunk eyes to awake
Categories
Category: Ruminations
She will walk with me
through the gaping chasm
of my sorrow
down the shrouded vale
where ash meets pine
midst the gorging reeking
of the measly moss
she will walk with me
whisper sweet somethings
as we reach the spot
where Molly’s ashes drift
through the grieving keyhole
she will walk with me
as I stumble over the house
lost as an eyeless cat
“catch me catch ere I fall
oh the sadness of it all”
she will walk with me
hand in hand as we often were
hold me tighter she would say
hold me tighter now I say
she will walk with me
by the moonlit sea
to the bench we marked
OURS
before the calling came
too soon, too soon
my sweet angel face……
yet in the waning of the days
where the cherry blossom lays
she will walk with me
she will talk with me
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Sale Fell
Sale Fell lies at the westerly edge of the English Lake District, looking out towards the Solway coast and the Scottish hills that lie over the water, whilst guarding the fringe of the north west fells that so dramatically margin this rugged landscape. It is a modest beauty combining lovely walks, views, splendid birds (of which pied flycatcher and green woodpecker are good examples) and wonderful opportunities for picnics and breathers.It has an interesting geology with outcrops of pure white rock marking the top like sheep biologically washed in the latest washing powder. It has been the location of films, murders, passionate love embraces and probably much much more. May it long watch over us.
Here’s my Christmas card to all my avid readers, Sorry – I know its late but Santa dropped the parcel and couldn’t find it till now …. sorry. He’s been kept busy with a flooded house and a requirement to consume more than usual copious amounts of single malt Scotch whisky … sorry. But merry Christmas anyway and may the spirit of peace and joy inhabit your souls through this coming year. Sorry ……..
Categories
The house and the hill
Somewhere
beyond the forgetfulness of now
and the regretfulness of then
lies the beget fullness of the future
in all its yellow flowering
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Spring Awakening
As the cherry blossom
Fills the horizon
The politicians jostle
seeing the changing world in shades
of black and white. A turning senses.
feeling the interruptions of the day
in a quivering vibration of tender wood
scratching the surface of our deliberation.
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The Power Station
looming in the far distance
the machine knits a
commentary on our time
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Bee Happy
As the summer fades into autumn the life in the garden changes. Birds exhausted from a lovely summer’s rearing are quiet and the hum of insects dies to a soft murmuring. Ash keys populate the path whilst the late pink roses curl with the first nip of the coming cold. Down the greening slope of the orchard the evening shadows fall longer with the dipping sun. The happy bees call us to be happy ourselves at this magical turning of the world.
Categories
Selfie 801
Its not really me
just a passing reflection
of something or other
that glided across the horizon
like the wave of a tug
eager to bring home
the Mersey faithful
by the fellside 