On Friendship

Over years it grows

Constant through Life’s vagaries

Time no barrier


n.b. For Mary and Chris.

CLP 21/00/2020

On the Moon

Un-phased, she rises

Above man’s temporal world

Draws eyes to heaven


CLP 21/09/2020

On Anger iii

Even on calm days

Out of deep blue, waves wash in

Power diminished


CLP 20/09/2020

On Pain vi

And so, how are you?

Words tumble from the heart’s depths.

Right question, wrong time.


CLP 01/09/2020


What delights await?

Sun bright outside, boxes in

Day spoilt for choices


CLP 10/08/2020

On Friday

Strange days become weeks

Calendar page turns again

What of tomorrow?


CLP 01/05/2020


I confess to living my life

Lifted from pop songs, poets, fools

Taking every chance I get

Wandering where I choose

Secreting in my pocket

Those most precious of jewels

Stolen seconds of Time

To be wasted with you


n.b. www.napowrimo.net Day 13 prompt: All poetry is theft.

Christopher Perry

13th April, 2020

Held Fast

Damp wind sways small bell

Fog shrouds topmasts

Hull bumps quayside wall

Pulling with the running tide

Aboard, bored of leave

Provisioned, crew fat from land  

Keen to cast off

Trappings of terra firma

Yet held in a sea fret

Furled sails stay tied

Hawser knotted to the ring 

One more precious night

Bound to the wharf

Held by the weight of waiting


n.b. We are not alone.

n.n.b. GloPoWriMo/NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 8 prompt – various. I chose to take a first line from another’s poem. First line taken from ‘Ceremonial’ by Barbara Turney Wieland. 

Christopher Perry

8th April 2020

Day 14

The wind has dropped and on the way to the shop, the air feels soft. The birds seem to be less agitated in the hedgerows and bushes on the way down to the village shop.

There are still only a few leaves on the thorn bushes and their spikes glint in the rising sun’s light by the main road. A wren hops about inside, quite happily; safe from large intruders.

Not all the reeds on the other side of the coast road have been cut down, so they remain home of small birds who discreetly tweet to each other until they fall silent when a walker’s shadow passes over.

On one of the scrapes of the bird reserve a commotion kicks up.  A marsh harrier’s arrival has taken the curlew, redshanks and ducks by surprise. Travelling into the breeze, between the shingle bank and the road, the harrier keeps low to the inflorescences of the remaining water reeds for cover. A lapwing cries out, all a flap, it creates a scene, tries to distract the ranging raptor, so that all the birds below are shaken up. A whirl of wings and cacophony of calls and the shallow pond is vacated. Regardless, the marsh harrier maintains its hunting, something will reveal itself in an unguarded moment; maybe not a small bird, but a rodent exposed in the goose-grazed grass.

In early afternoon, driving through the woods to get essential supplies we slow to let a small deer clear the road and this disturbs a hare. It leaps up and bounds in a rapid zig-zag through the blue-bell plants that are yet to flower here. The size and speed of the hare is remarkable and unmistakable.  The deer just stepped coolly through the untidy woodland floor, calm as you like.

In the early evening, sat with my back to the shed, facing the sun this feels as it might in summer more than a hundred summers ago. Just the neighbours quietly in their gardens, no sound of motor vehicles, no sight of planes. The largest thing in the sky is the huge red kite, who continues to familiarise herself with the seasonal changes in her recently discovered domain. Protected by statute as she maybe, we’ll see if the game-keeper at the local shoot will allow her to establish herself safely here.

No news from my son, which is good news. He works steadily on.

I am up until quite late, then listen to the latest chapter of the story you are recording for me. It is a long chapter in a long book, in a series of six volumes, (I think). I have to scroll back several times to ensure that I have followed it all. After all the magic I must sleep.


CLP  1st April 2020


Picked up as a tale

Dusted off; polished to taste

Presented as Truth


CLP 30/03/2020