Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Devon, February, Haiku-ish, Imbolc, landscape, morning, nature, Poetry, seasons, time, weather on February 2, 2014| 2 Comments »
VALLEY SPIRIT
Over the last hill
Our prize is the view
Where the village nests,
Wood wreathed, woodsmoke.
Gathered fields almost,
Almost ready for spring
But patient, cautious,
Unhurried.
As unhurried as the morning.
Its grey lambswool clouds,
A blanket for Imbolc.
—
CROSS-HATCH
Imbolc morning:
Clouds like wolves,
And sheep.
Sun on all.
—
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Autumn, landscape, Poetry, Portree, Scotland, Skye, weather on September 16, 2013| 7 Comments »
FIRST SIGNS
The last few days autumn has come with sweeping winds and towering skies. Cold rains between radiant brightness. The birches are yellowing, the hawthorns reddening, the elders turn gold and purple, the swallows have all slipped away. Because it was my habit, a long time ago, to be in the North at the start of autumn, I have felt the pull of the clear cold, the descent of the year, bracken and heather, valley melancholy.
With this sudden,
Southern cold
I would be, again,
In Portree
On a bright morning
Watching the light
Push the small boats
Tethered to the tide
And the gulls
In the upper town calling
From the hills of roofs,
Naming them all :
The clouds and storms
Of coming winter
And with the smell of baking
And the smell of woodsmoke
And the roar of Time,
Shored up by thick walls
And a gathering of smiles.
—-
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Boston, connections, connectivity, global awareness, lightning strikes, news, Poetry, rain, space, weather on April 17, 2013| 3 Comments »
CORIOLIS EFFECT
Seems its been
Raining
All over
poets
Everywhere today.
Cool air,
The sound
Of it
Syncopating thought.
And how many times
Do they say
Lightning strikes
The surface of the Earth
At any one time?
From space
There is, it seems,
A constant flickering,
Like the coming
And going
Of souls,
A lightening
And a darkening,
Maintaining a larger
Balance, of sorts,
Though
As unfathomable
As the
Blue swirl
Of cloud
Over ocean,
As distant
Sounds
Of despair
And sorrow.
This came in response to a comment by 47whitebuffalo and a poem by whimsymimsy, and others too I think. Linked by weathers and events, we fugue and echo, screen to screen….
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cold, daffodils, dawn, daybreak, Haiku, landscape, light, March, not haiku, Poetry, round thoughts round this morning sun, sequence, spring, sun, turnng point, weather on March 20, 2013| 7 Comments »
SPRING EQUINOX MORNING
For this
one instant
A radiant pink
Squeezed and bright
Between hill and cloudbank.
Set round and sure
In circled gold
Dawn sun
Ringing
Time.
On the back of my eye
First flash of morning sun
Dazzles still.
Turning around
First flash of sun
Drives out thought.
Small promise
A moment of radiance
Before clouds close in.
It is the colour
Of heated silver
In a burnished silver sky,
Warm and cold balanced both
Tasting equinox.
A claddagh ring
This dawn:
Heart sun
Held safe
in year’s
Two hands.
Promising
Spring.
Promising spring
Dawn soon waylaid
A party of snowclouds.
A party of snowclouds
Cautious at first
Racing drunk and wild
Across neat fields.
Across neat fields
Light sparkles on dewfall.
Birds chasing each other
Pause a moment.
Spring dance.
Spring dance.
Changing partners
Their feet flattening daffodils,
A whirl of wind and hail.
A whirl of wind and hail
Is the news from the north.
All is silent in the garden.
All is silent in the garden
Dawn sun has vanished
Deep
within the daffodils’ trumpets.
Deep within the daffodils’ trumpets
Is the sound of spring to come
A bright fanfare.
I cannot describe
The colour of the dawn sun,
But perhaps
A blush of fire,
Burnished warm
By the fingertips
Of infinite patience.
Smoothed glow,
Delicate, cherished.
Sun hidden.
Collecting firewood.
The hearth
Still our closest companion.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cats, dawn, dreaming, February, landscape, Poetry, seasons, song, vision, weather on February 23, 2013| 4 Comments »
FILLED WITH BIRDS
Dawn glides in silence,
Settles
Crystallising
around purring cats,
(quiet watching eyes
filling each room).
This house:
A pebble set against
A river of wind.
Two days ago
The sun splashed spring,
A bright relaxing,
Filled with birds.
Now,
Winter has returned
To gnaw our bones.
Still, light is growing
At either end of day,
Stretched, though, and pale,
But welcome.
I am become an interweaving
Of days and moments,
A halting song
Made poignant
By strange harmony,
An old song
With new words
And a new tune.
Days
Filled with birds.
Nights,
Dream-filled,
Word-filled.
A pebble set
Against
A river of time.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged change, cold, crows, leave fall, nature, November, ravens, senses, time, weather, Winter on November 18, 2012| 3 Comments »
Rook-haunted woods.
Still skies
Crow-scattered.
Raven time,
Starling time,
Fog-drenched, silent.
A million leaves conjure
A beautiful demise,
Then fall into mud,
Crushed and grateful
For sleep:
Escaping from the growing cold,
This pinching of the candle of light,
The slip of degrees.
Skeleton time,
Unfleshed, sparse.
Silhouettes and shadows
Lost in dream:
Sky-rooted,
The taste of loam
And marl.
simonhlilly 