1. waving at trains

The trees stand on pathway edge,

branches waving,

like friends

to a departing train.

The fire without

The fire without,

red eyed

with the dying of the sun,

looks into the windows

and sees

its reflection.

It is putting on its make-up

for the night.

The tree is in love

The tree is in love

with Autumn

wearing its hearts on its sleeve

in a yellow blush.

Like birds returning to roost

heart-leaves gather;

a warm snuggle,

a smile on the soul.

Nature sparkles

Nature sparkles

like a lit touchpaper,

ready for Autumn

to explode.

Showers

of colour

from tree and shrub

gambol in the wind,

loitering in eddies,

littering paths.

These are

fireworks -

an

arsonist

of

burning imagination.

Jackson Pollock on the beach

Jackson Pollock on the beach:

a wooden canvas on the sand

proud reds and browns

and the pebble dashed

splash of tide.

The blood and scars

of battle with the wind

a spar

that once rode the waves

remains beautiful

in its latter days –

it ‘grows not old

as we grow old.’

This morning

This morning

the orchid is crying;

 flowery tears

litter its base

like mourners

tending a grave.

Footprints

                              Footprints in the snow

                                      the kisses of feet

                             on shallow skin

                                                and

                                                the sinking feeling of love.