No dog days.
Just a roaming dog giving love freely.
Two chickens: one bold, one shy both free to peck at will.
A fishing lake chock full of carp
The flash of scales occasionally breaking the glassy waters.
Pond skaters skidding on the surface tension.
Lakeside portraits in sepia as the sun goes down.
A grassy bank made good in tartan.
Breakfast al fresco.
Fish cooked on charcoal.
Rich reds in our living room.
A wooden staircase leads to the bedroom, where
supporting beams hold the up the room of our love.
Naked we roll in an earthy bed that smells of smoke and soon the rich smells of us entwined.
Star gazing and the milky way overhead.
A million tiny lights twinkle on and off.
You create a home from home.
Your domestic bliss envelopes me.
Birdsong, sweet and melodic fills the hours.
A millpond at dawn, the stillness broken by a silent beaver, rod straight, stealthy, calm.
A smile when you wake and before you sleep.
Love on the lips and
on the tip of my tongue.
Monday, 28 June 2010
Friday, 25 June 2010
Poem Friday #15
Quite how it got to #15 I don't know, but summer is most definitely upon us and there are multiple distractions from blogging... sun, football, tennis, outdoor swimming etc etc.
There is a guide to London's great trees which we now own and we have been two see two so far - a beautiful 300 year old London Plane in Brunswick Square (part of the grounds owned by Foundling the 18th century philanthropist) and Hardy's Ash in the cemetery of Old St Pancras Church. It is also several hundred years old. The young Thomas Hardy worked in the cemetery before his literary fame and left around 40 -.50? gravestones stacked against a young ash tree. The tree grew around them, and the stones have become part of it's form. Quite lovely really... We saw the ash tree as the sun set. The orange glow was beautiful.
Trees
Admire the pillars of our space
Quietly respiring
in parks
on roadsides
and gardens.
Shielding cemeteries,
As old as graves
they stand.
Lie under the bough
of a London Plane
Look up and see
the sun shimmer through
green-hued veins.
Touch the bark of an ancient Ash
Texture rough
Protecting a hollow core.
Stand on a hilltop and look upon
the weighty form
of a great oak.
Deep in a pine forest
Inhale the fragrant scent
and listen
as the wind whistles
through sharp needles.
Red berries in winter
on the holly bush
Fruit for all seasons.
Admire the trees
as they stand
tall
quietly
observing
the changes we make.
There is a guide to London's great trees which we now own and we have been two see two so far - a beautiful 300 year old London Plane in Brunswick Square (part of the grounds owned by Foundling the 18th century philanthropist) and Hardy's Ash in the cemetery of Old St Pancras Church. It is also several hundred years old. The young Thomas Hardy worked in the cemetery before his literary fame and left around 40 -.50? gravestones stacked against a young ash tree. The tree grew around them, and the stones have become part of it's form. Quite lovely really... We saw the ash tree as the sun set. The orange glow was beautiful.
Trees
Admire the pillars of our space
Quietly respiring
in parks
on roadsides
and gardens.
Shielding cemeteries,
As old as graves
they stand.
Lie under the bough
of a London Plane
Look up and see
the sun shimmer through
green-hued veins.
Touch the bark of an ancient Ash
Texture rough
Protecting a hollow core.
Stand on a hilltop and look upon
the weighty form
of a great oak.
Deep in a pine forest
Inhale the fragrant scent
and listen
as the wind whistles
through sharp needles.
Red berries in winter
on the holly bush
Fruit for all seasons.
Admire the trees
as they stand
tall
quietly
observing
the changes we make.
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