Monthly Archives: November 2011

Consciousness …

Consciousness … thoughts passing like clouds on a windy March day, soundlessly streaming; daydreaming. Thoughts like emotions unbidden and fleeting; memories, hopes and my life’s meaning – thoughts passing like clouds on a wild winter’s day, dark sorrow and pain … Continue reading

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There is a pool … .

There is a pool, offspring of a stream, secluded and still, where willows weep and dream by the limpid water green and cool. In Spring, sunny celandine and wild iris grow. In summer, nettles stand in stinging ranks beside balsam … Continue reading

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Mezza-luna moon …

Under the midnight sky last night the mezza-luna moon spread her mantle of stars shining reflected light onto her half-hidden face .. Mysterious one, in silver shadow, why do you look askance after millions of years and millions of miles … Continue reading

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Day breaks in silence …

Day breaks in silence over the furrows; only my footprints mar the perfect perspective. All is still in the mysterious calm of morning .. until I brush spears of grass and rills of raindrops flow to earth as I pass … Continue reading

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To a butterfly …

I saw you flutter, butterfly, from leaf to flowered stem; your velvet beauty dimmed by the passing of the days. Wings now torn and frayed, jewelled colours as faded by the summer light as aged brocade. I watched you dance … Continue reading

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Brambles …

Brambles ensnared the last weeds of Autumn, the tattered clothes of the lost year. Brambles wove Winter with burr and with blackthorn, threading through stems of wild parsley and nettles, yellowed, crushed, misshapen, forlorn. Those brambles wearing white blossom and … Continue reading

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Fragility …

I held that small, broken, feathered life cradled in my palm. How fragile were its fluttered wings that brushed death light as air. With what sorrow did I recognise that imperceptible last breath. Songbird, you had flown into darkness unaware. … Continue reading

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Like a shadow …

Like a shadow Winter cleaves to Autumn when nights lengthen and chill winds blow. It strips the tawny raiment from the trees into the furrows of the field in scattered leaves of bronze and gold. Silhouettes stand bereft; barren, naked, … Continue reading

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Son of Pegasus …

Earth-bound colt, son of Pegasus, drifting dreamily across the meadow – fetlock deep in springing turf; muzzle low, tasting April in the grass; have the white swans flying overhead arresting your gaze, stirred memories of fabled days; the sweet taste … Continue reading

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