Journey of Words

Category: Poetry

  • Day 55

    I realise that yesterday’s waves were nothing to write home about. When you can see the explosion of breakers showering sea spray higher than the shingle bank: when you can see spume carrying on the wind over the salt marsh; when you can hear the action of the sea smashing into the shingle from Bard →

  • Day 54

    Back on the beach. The tide is on the way out. Two of the three tiers of shingle are visible. From the water line to the top of the shingle is a climb of about ten metres. The depth of the beach this evening is maybe fifty metres from the top to the foaming wash. →

  • Lucky Dip

    Road map to future Be alert; follow the signs After you? Thank you . n.b. Reason for no fishing is “Swimmers use this area” Is this an order, or is it information? Good luck to them. . CLP 11/05/2020 →

  • Day 53

    Great Eye, a lump of clay and sand, is dissolving a little more with each storm tide. It used to be further inland, less exposed to the direct action of sea. For a while it was the site of a folly building, which then became a coast guard rocket house, before the foundations and brickwork →

  • Vulnerable

    We are all open To those preying on weakness Time to help yourself . Vulnerable (Alternative Take) . We are all open To those preying on weakness Come in, help yourself . CLP 09/05/2020 →

  • Day 52

    I turn off the road and follow a track through the woodland. Today the cool is most welcome as the sun is strong. It is a rare day of constant warmth and I have spent too long in the open. The canopy of sycamore, oak and ash whilst thin, is nearly complete. Bluebells are not →

  • Day 51

    I stand on the old bridge at Wiverton, looking down from the stone parapet. A clutch of water iris leaves, not yet with flowers, are sprouting by the left hand bank just beyond a collection old bull-rushes that stand tall and pale.  The river is not much more than a stream here. It emerges meekly →

  • Womanoeuvre

    A quiet word here Another there in his ear She realigns him . CLP 08/05/2020 →

  • Flower Moon Rising

    Swollen as my heart Bursting through my aching chest She rises in joy . CLP 07/05/2020 →

  • Day 50

    I had a long list of things to write about today, but in the end one magical moment grabbed my attention; the hares above Kelling Hard. Native to Britain, they remain a sight for sore eyes in much of the island, but in this area they are seen in nearly every field, in the pastures, →