Posted in Uncategorized, tagged forest, Haiku-ish, landscape, landscape photography, landscape.art, Poetry, senses, summer, Wales, woods on June 22, 2016| Leave a Comment »
Walking further than intended
A river breeze in the tree tops
And below, streams of birdsong.
—
The grasses are shooting green
But still in forest shade
The violets in full bloom.
—
A running stream
A cowslip sky.
At the forest’s edge,
The scent of green.
—
Deep in the woods
Violets bloom where no-one sees.
Perfected in themselves,
Complete within silence.
—
Allowed to breathe here
By the forest’s edge
This cowlip sky
A river wind in the treetops.
—
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged forest, landscape, landscape photography, light, midsummer, Poetry, stars, summer, Wales on June 12, 2016| Leave a Comment »
CANOL HAF
(Midsummer)
a cowslip sky
above butter mountain.
the white waters whisper-
no rain for a week now.
the summer stars i have all renamed
and are become dear places i have loved.
and the faces that float smiling
as i sleep, shine warm as sunlight
in bee-blessed gardens.
—
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged a new dreaming., beauty, change, continuance, death, grief, landscape, landscape photography, memory, Poetry, song for a dead friend, summer, transformation on June 4, 2016| 5 Comments »
A Season’s End
(Epitaph for Vicky)
we become more uncertain
and waver by the day,
our past melting behind us.
a change of season, inevitable.
where now that warm pulse?
that voice? that presence?
altered a little into sunlight,
into a vast, bright landscape,
into a bigger heart.
for there will always be beauty,
though no one promised joy
without sorrow.
we have melted into summer
wrapped in cooling green shade.
and some of us have not returned.
here then, the blossom heart of hawthorn,
here, a cowslip sky and creamy elder.
in the forest still are one or two violets
and the sound of running water,
and the droop and sudden flash of bluebells.
the sigh of swallows and the cuckoo misted valley.
where she walks now is all beauty,
and calm, and easy forgetting.
a summer that shall come upon us all.
and a long day, and a warm evening,
and a long, silent, singing night.
—
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged dawn, landscape, landscape photography, mist, Poetry, summer, sun, Wales on August 12, 2015| Leave a Comment »
veiled
though we sleep
dream or wake.
the world wrapped
in its own light
soaked in whispered
breath.
a fountain of waters
a tree, a river,
wondrous emergent
a circular thing
a pearl gently
warmed in fire,
dawn misted,
floating.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged a blur of betony, afternoon, Beulah, early morning, Irfon Valley, landscape, pastoral, photography, Poetry, Powys, summer, Wales on July 24, 2015| Leave a Comment »
TWO BY BEULAH
1
A break in the cloud:
A mouth of light
Drifts slowly over Beulah.
Dawn cannot be long.
Bats flicker vision,
A fluttering heartbeat.
Warm air, rain-wet
And rose-heavy.
2
The road sways soft
Down to Beulah.
Drowsy with valerian,
Hammocked easy
On sweet drift meadowsweet.
Awake the spired, serry willowherb,
And betony: scatter of exclamation.
We float light upon
Our own bright shadows.
The afternoon sun
And cloud valleys singing.
The road down to Beulah
Under the mountain.
—
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged ambience, art, haymaking, landscape, landscape photography, nature, photography, Poetry, skies, summer, Wales on July 22, 2015| 6 Comments »
Under a silent sky
Stretched with cloud,
Grasses loll green and pink and grey.
A firmament of birdsong
Curled, woven to sift shading green.
Tractors sigh and roar down the lanes.
Fields turned now and mown.
Stay quiet, stay still a while,
Hear how the river mumbles.
Fed we are,
Appeased by the width of things:
The deep caverned wood,
The slow, fine rains,
Flowers, now, of cloud.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged ambience, hills, landscape, moon, morning, Poetry, summer, Wales on July 10, 2015| Leave a Comment »
A lovely mist
Swaddles and swathes,
Dissolving the ground.
The chant of it –
An ululation of hilltops,
A thin taste of cloud.
The silent morning,
A slow rolling light,
A gentlest breeze,
A river ripple.
A high
And abandoned moon
Sings up the sun.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged hawthorn, landscape, May, Poetry, summer on May 23, 2015| 13 Comments »
WE RISE
We rise late
And tumble down
Towards it all:
A day suggested, infused,
Green and sunlit
Cloud and birdsong.
This late white
Bitter honey of May,
A mother’s scent,
A sparkled dew.
—
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Haiku-ish, landscape, nature, photography, Poetry, roads, summer, travel on August 20, 2014| Leave a Comment »
Fragments from a Long Road
In the blue shadows:
White bindweed moons.
Indescribable fragrance,
This August, summer air.
How the hills
Swell with rain,
Rise pale and loiter
At the edge of sight.
Chicory, wide-eyed
by the roadside,
Ragged blue
as the windy sky.
Even through these warm still days,
The scot’s pines, ever singing
Of storms and roaring seas.
simonhlilly 
Conversations with Invisible Friends(15)
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged ambience, art, bits and pieces, comments, consciousness, Haiku, Haiku-ish, inspiration, interiors, landscape, photography, Poetry, short pieces, summer, writing on August 17, 2014| Leave a Comment »
CONVERSATIONS 15
REWRITE
Convincing ghosts rewrite our certain pasts,
or bitter to the last, at least try to inject their dying voices,
inject their reasons, their stories.
We all, full of hunger, scurry for validation,
deny our small wickednesses, rewrite, remember.
—
SHADED
In that
Green shade
We are made
And unmade.
Click of insect moments.
—
COUPLET
The demons of eloquence
are not always right,
but their arguments
should always ruffle and delight!
—
HARMONIC
What each we are,
A note plucked once and dying.
Attack, sustain, release, delay.
That harmonic wave is what we are,
How we intrude,
How we linger.
—
SMALL
Over that hill it is always dawn, always midnight.
The smell of dew on hay,
The rising insects floating silent.
All this is uniquely ours –
This dawn, this sunset,
A moment fashioned and nested.
An egg of memory, in this small circle.
—
SUNLIT
The pillars of the sky:
Skylark’s song.
Morning stillness.
—
NOT QUITE
In you…
Nothing moves
That is not world’s spin,
Past’s voice.
A wind’s will,
A wisp,
Not quite a nothing
Not quite a quite…
—
EDGE
One star remaining
White edge of the summer night
Rimmed, restless, drawn out.
—
BINARY
Alert
Or asleep, on
or off,
The eye
Of the I,
Blink, unblink,
Blink.
—-
VALEDICTION
The vale of now.
We move in and out of it
Hardly touching,
So caught up we are:
The sounds of our own echoing,
Fading footprints.
Mouthing alphabets
And times-tables.
Numerate, literate,
Dust dressed in story,
Veiled whisp, regardless.
—
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