On Pleasure vii

Weary travellers

Take overdue refreshment.

Sun turns sky silver

n.b. Surlingham Ferry. The Ferry House hove into view, somehow knowing a drinks break was needed after 4 hours of an impromptu cycle ride. Interesting cloud formations and sunset too.

CLP 06/09/2020

Towny Owl

Summer’s heat, unnatural to Norwich

lingers, holds the city in a blanket,

slowly smothers dreams of sleep we long for,

laid out breathless, adrift on airless beds,

praying for the day’s end, “Please, let us be.”

~

Kissing the window, backlit by street lamps,

leaves of birch resemble ukiyo-e,

nature frozen in delicate block print.

~

The hillside wood across the way breathes out,

its cool canopy shelters waking life,

silent flitting of bats and cautious mice,

timid nocturnal snuffling of the shrew,

fearful of false movement now she has heard

the mournful call of night’s hunting bird

~

n.b. I was delighted to hear a tawny owl’s call in the August heat of the city, where the night is silent by comparison to the heath of Salthouse and the shifting shingle of the North Sea coast.

~

CLP  24th August, 2020

On Waking

Locked in combat

Fitful thoughts leave us flailing

Sleep slays our demons

~

n.b. This carving in Cley-next-the-sea is un-dated. It may be from the C18th, or possibly older, or more recent. It amuses me that St. George appears to be asleep on his dopey steed, whilst despatching the dragon.

A good kip can see off all manner of worries, even a monster like this one.

~

CLP 14/07/2020

Smokin’

~

The evening the supermarket burnt down

Four miles away in the town up the road

Its smoke funnelled out to the coast

Streamed high across the marsh

Curled beneath a front pushing from the west

Where the lofty plume lost height over the cool sea

Shadowed the sunset and emerging night

Carrying smells of charcoaled meat offshore

To be minced by the churning turbine blades

Of the wind farm on the shoals

.

CLP 28/06/2020