BENEATH THE DUSKY GREY SKY
Beneath the dusky grey sky
Of low scudding clouds,
The ambient air was damp
Blown in from the west
On the same storm fed wind
That chased the clouds
Across the autumn sky
SUMMER SQUALL
The sky is grey and dark
Defying the sun to appear
Then the wind picks up
And thunder is getting near
Rain follows with lightning
Flashes that strike fear
And preludes the thunder
So loud it deafens the ear
But then its passes on
And the skies are clear
IDYLLIC VISION
Walking the rugged paths and lanes
Over hill and vale, through field and wood
Past timbered cottages with thatched roofs
And white picket fences and wishing wells
Ending at a country pub with low oak beams
And brasses decorating the walls
Such is my idyllic vision of a country walk
IN THE AUTUMN MEADOW
In the autumn meadow
Everywhere was wet with Dew
And highlighted in the tall grasses
Were a myriad of lustrous webs
waiting to reward their architects
For their industry and patience
FLITTING AND FLUTTERING
The sunshine dances
On butterfly wings
As they flit and flutter
Never still, never pausing
As they in turn dance
To natures gentle tune
PERCHED ON THE APPLE BOUGHS
Perched on the Apple boughs
The Finches sing a song to please
A song carried on the air, with
The scent of blossom on the breeze
THE MIGHTY OAK LAY BROKEN
The mighty oak lay broken
In the wake of the storm
And I am deeply saddened
For as a boy I climbed
Its mighty steadfast trunk
And sat amongst its limbs
Sheltering beneath its canopy
As generations of small boys
Had done many times before me
But then I saw an acorn
On the ground beside my feet
So, I picked it up and smiled
And took it home with me
So, I could grow his son
SPRINGTIME IN THE WOOD
Though winter snow still lies
In the wood’s bluebells grow
Appearing like sapphire jewels
Through the thawing snow
NIGHTINGALE SONG
The powerful and beautiful song
Of the common nightingale
Has a songful rhythm and rhyme
And the small passerine bird
Whose voice belies its size
Has beauty that strikes a chord
THE SUNRISE WAS A GLOWING RED
The sunrise was a glowing red
As the day began frostily
Beneath the clear skies
But those skies turned grey
As the days early promise faded
Along with the light
What was clear however
Was that rain was on the way
Maybe even hill snow
But it was equally possible
That the sky will become blue again
And for some the sun may return
MILL STREAM
The stream runs down the rugged hill
To where stands a quiet water mill
And when water shoots along the spill
The wheel is turned to break the still
So, the miller toils with sweat and skill
And when there are no more sacks to fill
The sluices close and again all’s still
AFTER THE ICE QUEENS BITTER TOUCH
After the ice queens bitter touch
Fountains cascaded no more,
Waterfalls become inanimate.
And you cannot avoid her winter bite
Driving snow falls upon frost and ice
And the world feels her bitter chill
For a hundred years or more