Blurred Vision Is it the rain That blurs your vision so? It trickles down the window pane Crystalline and slow. Or is it sorrow That spatters On the windows of your soul? Apologies if you have seen this image before
Tag: Poems
A poem to sum up my feelings in this post.
More of the Happisburgh story
On the Brink of Nature Once separated From the sea by a parish Long ago abraded, A village clings to the brink Of sandy layer-cake cliffs. The coastline crumbles And slumps Towards the sea, Worried by waves That weave sea-tangle With beach debris: Severed heads of conduits, Limbs of sea defences, Rubble and concrete Replaced […]
A poem prompted by a striking local landmark
Lighthouse at Happisburgh Beacon in a turnip field Warns Of storms And danger On the sands No rocks here Just crumbling Cliff and beach Since the Ice Age A village that fears The forces of nature Over two hundred years Of refracted light and fierce Storms battering the staunch tower All the while the sea […]
I no longer have a dog, but when I visit my daughter I enjoy…
Walking the Dog Breaking free From brick and glass We strike out On a fine autumn day Kick leaves Listen for thrush and blackbird Chase rabbits From thickets Breathe the muskiness Of undergrowth And fungus And a damp dog
An early morning poem
Morning Unfolds It’s half past six And through black shadows And silhouettes of willows A patch of sky unfolds Like Italian marbled paper In purples and blues Early morning hues Wrapped around the gift Of a new day
Inspired by a day trip on the Danube
Bratislava Rooftops In a cityscape of rooftops Motley medieval towers Jostle with concrete and glass, Down to the Danube. Above them all On a hill Bratislava Castle A Theresian phoenix Reborn
A sad sight in our garden
Derelict Birdhouse Vacant house Hanging low From a broken branch In overgrown Undergrowth Weather-beaten walls Moss-covered roof Abandoned By birds
This poem is heartfelt – when we finally get a frost I’ll add an image
A Frosty Morning I love a frosty morning Landscapes look sublime Cobwebs glittering Skin stings Footsteps ring Resonating Blackbirds sing Leaves crunch Frozen soil creaks Senses sharpened As the world Wakes
A childish pastime
Hill Rolling A personal pleasure When everything’s green Is to wander up the hill Remaining unseen Hide in the long grass Until the time is right And then roll Turn and tumble To the bottom And then delight In the head spin Dizzy and ecstatic Magic
Thanks to Google, I have been reminded today of a wonderful trip to Prague
The Astronomical Clock in Prague It’s a chilly morning on Charles Bridge; Dodging phantom figures Emerging from the mist, Craving hot coffee To warm our souls And hands, We stroll Into the Old Square, Already buzzing. A crowd has gathered At the southern wall Of the Old Town Hall, Faces upturned like sunflowers Basking in […]
writing in north norfolk 