Saturday, 24 July 2021

GATHER IN THE WOODLAND LILIES

 

Gather in the woodland lilies

Kissed with natures gentle dew

Lay them on the polished oak

And bid your love a fond adieu

THISTLEDOWN, IN IDLE FLIGHT

 

Thistledown, in idle flight

Drifts upon the highland wind

Like ancestral spirits

NEVIS

 

In the lochs reflection

Could be glimpsed

The gentle caress of clouds

Atop the granite peaks

Before they thickened

To hide the Ben

Then separated like parting friends

To reveal the stark silhouette

Against the blue

And through these inconsistent clouds

The sun would burst

Illuminating the glen

And its heathered hills

As the clouds moved west

The sunbeam moved

Like a torches light

And in the distance

The hills appeared to move

As if in a lantern show

Then on the freshening wind

From the west

Squally showers blew in

And the sun painted

A rainbow across the sky

And as quickly as it had arrived

The showers blew away

And the rainbow faded

Evaporating to nothing

Then the sun began to set

Beyond the western isles

And turned the sky red

With streaks of pink and gold

Decorating the whole sky

And when the sun sank

Beyond those misty isles

The night wrapped the glen

In its dark shroud

Friday, 23 July 2021

AUTUMN REFLECTIONS

 

I stood on the wet sand

On that cold autumn morning

In the autumn of my years

With the breeze off the sea

Chilling my old bones

And gazed out across the bay

To the distant purple hills

Their edges blurred and softened

By the early morning mist

Their indistinct silhouette

Reflected on the moving water

The tidal water pulling at the reflection

As it moved inexorably to the open sea

And seemingly carrying with it

All of my unfulfilled hopes and dreams

With a shiver I turned from the scene

And made my way along the beach

My eyes were drawn to the hillside

Where the sparsely covered trees stand

With the last of the leaves falling

Each fluttering to the ground

Each leaf’s fall symbolic

Like the dates of a calendar

Being peeled off one by one

Ticking off the days of my life

As I head towards my winter

Thursday, 22 July 2021

NATURAL MUSIC

 

Bird song abounds like a symphony

Scripted by natures unseen composer

Conducted by the baton of an invisible maestro

The shrill woodwinds

Of Blackbirds, Finches, Thrush and the Tit family

While the Cuckoo sets the time

And a Woodpecker beats a rhythm

The breeze moves the leafy canopy

Like vibrant cascading strings

Timber’s creek and strain adding percussion

Rutting Stags and distant plaintive cries

A Fox cry and a Peacock’s call

Waterfowl and cooing Doves

Underscored by the beating wings of birds in flight

Insects join the improvised symphony

Droning Bees and Dragonfly

A symbol crash as a Duck enters the water

A waterfall adds the rolling kettle drum

Distant thunder booms like a bass drum

And Xylophonic drops of rain hit the lake

While a Swan gracefully dances

Across the water in perfect harmony

God in heaven the impresario

Of mother nature’s philharmonic company

Wednesday, 21 July 2021

KING GEORGE’S PARAKEETS

 

It was unbearably hot

Unbearably humid

Even breathing was exhausting

Overcome with fatigue

I parked my jeep at the roadside

In a shaded spot

I recline my seat

And pulled my hat over my eyes

And tried to grab forty

My shirt was soaked with sweat

And stuck to me and the seat

It was no good I couldn’t sleep

It was the constant noise

But not from the traffic

Rumbling by

It was the birds

Squabbling parakeets

Hundreds of them

Chattering and squawking

I gave up trying to nap

And got back underway

You come to expect this

Next to an Australian highway

But not parked in a lay-by

Next to a reservoir in Staines

Tuesday, 20 July 2021

PERFECT PARADISE

 

The crystal waters

Wash gently onto

Virgin white sand

Untrod by man

Unspoiled by technology

And no vapour trails

Mark the azure sky

 

The trees untended

Lay where they fell

The coconuts un-harvested

But for the wind

Lay untouched also

 

They beach stretched

As far as the eye could see

Far into the distance

Un-marked and un-scarred

No buildings

No phone masts

No pylons

No wind farms

Or streetlights

The only sounds to be heard

Were the waves breaking,

The gentle breeze in the palms

And assorted birdcalls

No gunfire

No car alarms

No train whistles

No sonic booms

Or traffic

Just a perfect silence

 

No flotsam of plastics and tins

Littered the beach

Just endless white sand’s

And perfect blue skies

The rustles of palm fronds

And warm scented breezes

So where is this paradise?

It’s in the long distant past

AUTUMN MORNING

  The mist cascaded down the hillside Like a maiden’s hair Tumbling onto her shoulders The bare branches of the birch trees Pierced ...