April Morning

The morning’s dust-tongued with short-lived frost and seabirds moon-blown from the coast compete with bell-voiced wood pigeons. These early muffle-toed strolls are full of promise: spring winds roar in a leaf-foamed coppice and all the quiet moments in between, while hare-heeled boots touch damp earth with a kiss. No dark-vowelled dreams could have predicted this […]

Bright Grace

In the darkness of a November night, the autumn moon rose proud and bright, and so did you,  my magical child, in a landscape green and wild. You were my ēlē every morning, the grace of light, of each day dawning, the most beautiful in Celtic lore, Gráinne, beloved, a mythical flower. Kim M. Russell, […]

Early Spring Landscape

We walk into a landscape where flowers light up verges, they peep between the hedge gaps, adorn churchyards and copses. Where flowers light up verges, the earth is not just greenscape, throughout churchyards and copses a spring colourwash escapes. The earth is not just greenscape, it glows with yellow urges; the spring colourwash escapes and […]

Goodbye Mundane Monday

I wake up early and greet another day, a mundane Monday, damp, cold and grey. Winter should be over, or so the buds tell me, there should be sunshine and daffodils. I watch a smoking feather, a skylark rising, and then a second hovers above the winter field – then another, and another ascend into […]

This Poem is a Hill, Indigo Water and Whiffling Geese

This poem is a distant hill. This poem is a welter of indigo water. This poem is geese whiffling overhead. This poem is a rolling, breaking wave of corn the colour of honeycomb, washing against the grassy spine of an ancient sleeping dragon, a landslide washed green. This poem is a distant hill. This poem […]