31. Inflamed

Bright and burning

with a desire to fire

the gasses hiss

and the flames get higher.

Like lip touched coals

(the vision of Isaiah)

a pyrotechnic poem

leaps from the pyre.

30. Heart of stone

Among the random pebbles

and glistening vibrant colours

this stone speaks.

It may resemble a heart

but it does not pulse,

it is fixed

until some passing rock

chips another facet

in its superficial hardness

or the roughage of arbitrary tides

smooth its surface against

its fellows.

How alike we are.

29. bystanders

Boulders stand at a distance

staring at the youth

dressed to impress

beyond the hedgerow.

Their weather-worn facets

the wrinkling of age and exposure

and centuries of standing still.

With a single eye the stare is returned

as the tower considers

it’s destiny.

28. peacock

A sun burst of dawning eyes

flaunted, regal, romancing –

the allure in azure shades

and tender ballet dancing.

27. Avebury's henge

Summer flirts on the chalk path -

a dusty hedge encompassing Avebury’s henge.

Five thousand summers have blessed this place

their footfalls on other mystic paths

through undiscovered stones,

buried by time,

beneath tourists daily feet.

26. aerodrome

From high vantage

the wing commander

scans for safe passage

as his legion

awaits command.

25. First sitting

Like Braille upon a page

or music on a stave

waiting to be read

the starling cacophony

sits in chorus

murmering.

24. Easter Island at Lindisfarne ?

Wooden monoliths;

their larch lapped facades

peek from the soil

to glimpse a greener vista.

Turning their backs

on seafaring

they store landlubbered

memories

and tools for a journey

they will never take.

Rain whipping in the wind,

flagellant upon their keels,

raps staccato morse messages

unintelligible Babel rantings

in the winter storms.

Their underbellies consider

the riding of waves

and surf-spray caresses

as bright exposure

strips their hulls.

23. underneath the arches

Underneath the arches

culvert and path

pass

undisturbed.

Water streams noisily

to join its brethren -

the homogeny of river

searching for sea level.

The walker,

in her own flow

of quieter contemplation,

treads a path

upstream –

the source more enticing

than the standardisation

of oceans.

22. more small stones

The newly fallen -

sharply crisp,

unblunted by jog and jostle,

fresh faced

fractured revelations of antiquity.

Ancient past

exposed

to contemporary eyes.

21. willows

In silent mourning

the willow

weeps

beside a tarmac stream.

Its watery companion

usurped by fume

and ‘progress’.

Rainstorms try to reclaim

their lost territory

in sodden salvoes.

A torrent

of angry motorists

discharge broadside bombardments

across the pathway

wetting the feet of the trees,

bringing reminiscences

from within the rings.

20. 'out of the strong came forth sweetness'

The day bids farewell

with honey on its lips -

like golden syrup

slipping slowly

from a spoon.

^{Judges  14 v 4}  ‘ Out of the eater came forth meat, and out of the strong came forth sweetness.’

quoted on Tate & Lyle’s  Golden syrup tins 

19. candy floss

A pink rose-cloud

of stranded sugar

taunts the tastebuds

with its sticky

tentacles.

In the background

a brash soundtrack

of brassy pop music

and screams

from spinning cages 

and undodged dodgems.

  

18. The gurning hedgerow

Green ogres line the path

gurning at passers-by

running the gauntlet of their glances.

Or are they hiding their eyes ?

Leafy hands protecting

lest they see their reflection

in some random glass.

Topiarists have been at work;

green-fingered sunlight

 petrifying  these Trolls.

The coming of dawn -

the application

of discriminating secateurs.

17. unwrapping

No longer Christmas day

and the urgent unwrapping

of that day fades -

the discarded paper

 dispatched to the bin.

What will you unwrap today,

little man?

The revelation of a new day

pristine in its wrappings,

content hidden from sight.

16. ....suddenly

The sun suddenly hides

within darkness

and the temperature freefalls

in a squall of angry wind.

Clouds clap their  thunder

in celebration of victory

to the rapturous applause

of the bouncing hail.

15. coming or going

Shielded in a confusion of steam

the proclamation of piston

announces movement

but does not reveal

direction.

14. off season

The sun scatters light flakes on the sea

lightly dusting its radiance

upon the undulating mirror.

Meanwhile the town yawns

in its dearth of visitors

and its out of season sleepiness.

13. at dusk

At dusk the final

 blush of day flushes colour

into a shadow.

12. trimmings

Beyond twelfth night.

The gentle drip

of pseudo Spring

slips from the frosted

trimmings

of decorated trees

as Christmas

loses its sparkle.

11. North sea contemplation

Warmer days

and calmer seas;

a gentle touch

ministrates to tired toes.

Lost in thought

while the reflection

drowns in sodden sand.

10. the invitation of satin

What glides within me

at the highlights of satin

and its swirl of sheen;

the glossy movement

of sliding colour

and the finger-tip touch of glass ?

The temptation to handle -

I am an ice-skater

early to the lake,

I am

a ski-jumper

on an avalanche

of shades.

9. shivered timbers

Alone,

marooned in the field

like an abandoned pirate,

the tree faces the cold

with shivered timbers.

8. wandering home

Afternoon,

the sheep tempts providence

and the possibility of trolls

to cross the bridge home.

Rickety,

and heavy with wool,

the risk fades

with the nearing

of the other side.

7. the bridge stares

The bridge looks like spectacles.

I wonder if it looks downstream

to the things that have passed

spreading like the ripples

of history,

or stares upstream

expectantly to the fresh flow

of early rain.

6. the cockerel in the sky

The clouds are crowing,

growing stronger

and promise

a laying

of rain

if the chickens

ure up for it.

5. in the story

Wrapped in soft warmth,

enfolded in an afterglow of bath-time,

words cuddle the imagination

as the story unfolds.

4. footprint

photo: Houghton Regis Chalk quarry 26th Jan 2013

Footprints in the snow

the kisses of feet

on shallow skin

and

the sinking feeling of love.

3. does the tree have a memory

Can the tree remember

yesterday, bedecked,

in the warm and dry

dripping with lights and tinsel

and the clamour of Christmas cheer.

Somehow it looks sad

back in the garden

and the celebration of birds.

2. Traces

There are traces of my journey

in the souls of my friends,

long forgotten and rusting,

building a skeleton

and hiding in unsought memories.