Aisling of the millpond

unseasonable warmth
petite clouds
white buds pinned to infinite blue
fine grass blades grass by the millpond
prick my pale winter skin
my flat weight crumples daisies
in cool shade
of the willow’s weeping

tumble of the waterwheel
low hum of bumble bees

chiffchaff

chiffchaff

chiffchaff

with eyes closed I see all
the birds I hear
from within this sonorous wall
soft notes
a woman’s song

so tired
so tired
so tired

my head so heavy it cannot turn
my eyelids stuck down by pinks and blues
my arms so heavy they will not move
my legs feel bound they cannot run
my voice clasped tight within my throat
I hear her singing

she sings of lilac
yet to bloom

she sings of lambs
not yet sprung

she sings of hedgerows
nestlings yet to fledge

she sings of the stream
yet to flood

she sings of oak
still to leaf

she sings of the summer
yet to burn

she sings of two lovers
yet to meet

she sings of harvest
we’ve yet to reap

she sings of apples
we’ll collect

she sings of mists
that will rise from dew

she sings of the plough
that will tear the earth

she sings of crows
that will draw in the night

she sings of frost
that will veil the soil

she sings of the fireplace
as autumn leaves

so tired
so tired
so tired

slowly I wake
remembering
how far I must go
before I finally reach
my home

~

n.b. NaPoWriMo 2022 Day Twenty-five prompt: write an aisling.

CLP 25/04/2022

Pigeons

Coops balanced
against each other
defying gravity
along the embankment
like sentry boxes
facing south
marking the entrance
to Sunderland
its beach
in April offered
a slice of
Siberia
Roker Park
the taste of bitter
defeat

~

n.b. NaPoWriMo 2022 Day Twenty-three prompt: a poem in the style of Kay Ryan. My kind of poem. I love April, when spring is vibrant, the weather cruel and football reaches its season end. This brief poem is based on a grim day out on 11th April, 1993, but hey, Sunderland stayed up that year, which was nice, for them.

23/04/2022

on time

go back, close the gate
leave the field of play secure
pretend it's over

~

n.b. Can you hear the scythe of the old man swishing through the long grass, or is it just a breeze catching the blossom?

CLP 28/03/2022

on spring

after bright warm day
night still comes in winter clothes
no allowances

~

n.b. It was nippy walking home tonight!

CLP 24/03/2022

on colour

daisy's pink lippy
opening to persuasion
bed of verdant blades

~

n.b. More light than dark! The joys of spring.

CLP 20/03/2022

on time

BOOM!
I have time all over my hands
it runs between my fingers
I walk through Sunday stunned
by the smell of the river
the humidity of the air
the taste of rain in the breeze
peach blossom in the city
a bumble bee, as big as a thumb,
nosing into a crocus, bending the stalk
busy drinking, as I am free to do
if I choose
to spend my time drinking
in now
all I have is time

~

CLP 13/03/2022

Dream #1

Wild plum tree blossom

crack willow yellow pollen

smattering on the gesso of sky

stretched across its frame

by North Sea blow

~

CLP 28/05/2021

On Ranting

When you’ve quite finished

look at this beautiful day

birds and bees, flowers

~

n.b. NaPoWriMo 2021 Day Nineteen prompt: a rant.

Meanwhile here, a million miles away, it is spring. For that I am truly grateful. 😎

~

CLP 19/04/2021

At the Exit

Clocks have changed to British Summer Time. The Sun has come out. A strong southerly wind brings warmth to Norfolk.

People are out and about, the sound of children playing in the local park competes with goldfinches, blackbirds, chaffinches and the blue and great tits. An otter has been seen in the Wensum nearby and a large seal has come up river from the sea to nose around the old wharfside.

Daffodils, primroses jostle for attention, bluebells are preparing to make an entrance.

A day to savour. Not the end of Lockdown 3, but a step towards another way of living.

~

n.b. And I have just seen two bats spinning by my windows.

~

CLP 29/03/2021

L3 (Day 81.8): Garden

Cherry tree blooms pink, so pink it’s almost punk. Colour splashed across a grey day.

~

CLP 28/03/2021