Ethereal blue pre-quandary,
silence without thought
we breathe deeply
steeped in the rush of the land,
touched to life by the sun.
Rainbow flows in ripples.
Uncontainable.
We are unmovable.
When our bells toll without sound
the valley swings.
Sunlight breaks
through the veil.
My blog post on the Friends of Greencroft Valley’s Spring Wild Medicine Walk, which was led by Edwina Hodkinson and took place yesterday can be found on the South Ribble Transition Towns website: http://www.srtt.co.uk/2013/05/fgcv-spring-wild-medicine-walk/
Portrait Study William McMillan (1877-1977)
I can’t speak.
I wish I was surrounded by flowers.
Brazen, mechanical, magnetic,
my visage negates my inner lodestone.
Closed like a sphinx,
time bomb ticking,
an enigma of contradiction
I want to explode
like a splintered ballerina,
tear apart like umbrellas unfolding,
spiders dancing
legs like clockwork segments
toppling upside down,
bursting into falling petals.
Deep within I keep the jewel.
In the woodland I hold chaos.
(January 2011)
He wakes me every morning
with an insistent little chirp,
posturing like he owns the place
on his perch atop the roof.
Boisterous, bold his cheery flock
in the buddleia run amock,
clatter on my window sill
and chatter on the chimney pots.
Their conversations to and forth
exalt in a joy we have lost
to the drudge of work, moving off
and erecting a garden fence.
Our times and borders they defy-
live where they want, mate and fight
filling the sky with rebel cries.
This abode is more theirs than mine.
Green grows white tipped
cow parsleys a head high-
intriguing pushing citadels
to a wild cavorting eye.
Daisies peek. Curiosity paws.
Garlic reeks time bomb shards,
aroma expanding a quivering nostril.
In green freedom she rolls
turning sun over grass,
cloud over bough,
kicking her heels up.
Spring is here!
Shaking off the old,
treading the invisible horse paths
of a lost long maned herd.
Her restlessness ripples
through the green white tipped growth.
(May 2012)
The river knows,
she always knows
what’s in my heart.
Her ripples smile.
Last night I walked
in Avalon
by the light
of a silver moon
and golden sun.
My cares were gone.
The world was young again,
the blight of industry undone.
A clear glass sky met cloud.
Water shimmered
the green green ground.
For a moment
the world was one
then the sky fell down,
the land rose skyward
and I no longer
walk in Avalon.
