The question posed in your last line is a most important one and is the subject one of my pet hates.

I am frequently preached at – rather, gaslit - by my local authority and various entities, about being “environmentally responsible”.

Yet the very same so and-sos encourage my missus to to put the so-called “waste”, produced by weeding and thinning out flowers, into a special green bin, to ...

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Under the yellow-green of sunlit beech

between banks of bluebells' hazy blue

where supple crosiers of new fern reach             

over verdant moss still damp with dew

a grassy lane runs beside the river

 

In the mystic quiet of a leafy dome

of grey bark ash, beech and mighty oak

a far cuckoo calls the dryads home

but we pass unseen by woodland folk

'til tylwyth teg w...

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Like grains of rice, her love it grows;

Forms a crown from lush meadows.

Beneath their skulls with blooming fields,

Dandelions caress skin, living shields.

Arrays of light pour onto ivory,

Little, brown connect-the-dots scatter accordingly.

With envy in their eyes, the fairies hover,

Frowning between one another;

Wondering how they lost their glen

To a pair of human...

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photo credit: Kari Musil 

Like whiskey aged

Mellowed

Slowed down

Old school

Remembered for it’s bite

Some flavors are acquired taste

Between dark history

And magic fairies 

Is a legacy of ghosts

Who will not be stilled

By death or passage into

Other dimensions

Weeds are designated

By those with shallo...

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