On August VII

Late the Moon claims night

Planets trace her way through stars

Grass cut by stark shadows


n.b. I excuse my additional syllable in this attempt to capture the vision of last night’s lunar brightness and the sharpest, darkest shadows thrown onto the silvered late summer grasses in the meadow. A remarkable, naturally well-lit night.


CLP 19/08/2019

On August (VI)

Red haws fit to burst

Swollen by inclement rains

Fruit of the Dog Rose





CLP 18/08/2019

On August IV

Air lays blanket thick

Limp leaves untether in heat

Fat white cloud darkens


CLP 18/08/2019

On August (II)

Evenings shorten

Moonrise turns grasses to snow

Nights separate days

CLP 14/08/2019

On Dawn

Awake to the Sun

Cool breeze pulls at the grasses

Scatters flower seeds


CLP 28/07/2019

On the Field

Man versus Nature

Blades of steel v. blades of grass

Cricket’s the winner


n.b. The smell of cut grass releases various plant chemicals into the air. They signal the start of the English cricket season, even though there are weeks to the first coin toss and the first delivery.

In the picture above the light green patch of grass is the hallowed turf of a cricket square.

CLP 14/03/2019

May Day, Bognor Regis


petals wild blown

accumulate in drifts

fill gutters,

kerbs billow into puffed up pillows.


Bared bottom leaves tilt up

and wiggle, pale undersides

frolic nude.


Baited by sunlight,

naked limbs are dared

to risk exposure

so piercing beams,

when whisked up

with sea-cooled gusts,

buff white skin



CLP  01/05/2018