Poetry Blogs (Summer)

Glorious was that day:

Star rich the summer sky

Amongst the sun warm hay

We stole a sack on which to lie

Warm was that night:

Grass framed the starry gems

Below the hov'ring kite

We kissed amongst the tall grass stems

Heavenly was that tryst:

Grass rough the bed we made

Below a dusky mist

We took our love as grasses swayed

Fierce was that lust:

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The Autumn chill blows between

the seasons hardened trees

The leaves may turn

a beautiful shade of gold

but my hue will always

be a summer's green

only to be seen when the sun

hangs high in the sky

and the clouds are

nowhere to be seen

I lie down on the fresh

verdant pasture

waiting for a soft breeze

to fan my sun blushed cheeks

and the soft wings of

a ...

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You see the chavs unveiling torsos
Which fashion hair that always grows
The shorts his distant cousin wears
Showing us sights that only scare
The ice cream man appears once more
Serving melting ice cream through his door
You hear the neighbours having a Barbie
An hour or two later they sound rather barmy
The neighbourhood drunk stumbles as usual
And vain young girls become rather delusion...

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16th July 2018

In places the grass is brown and dry

The garden is a desert of cracked peat

Plants dead and trees about to die

Only my sunflower loves the heat

But this is Wales, yet

nearly all of my bees

have never known these

 raindrops

until

today

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I sit outside the door

on a slate bench

my back against the cottage wall

in the evening sun

listening to a blackbird sing

the most astonishing sweet notes

In front of me

there is elderflower

honeysuckle

buttercups spangle the uncut grass

and the old larch looms in its corner

beyond the ancient stones of Hafod

which mark my plot

The sun has not long returned

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Thirty-nine bodies

                lay on the ground

                in the summer sun

As I watched

                workers carried two more away

Around me

                life continued as usual

                a hum of activity

                oblivious

Thirty-nine bodies

                on that square of concrete

                that summer afternoon

As ...

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Riots in another Eden, Eve’s tearful funeral,

Her truth was a lie and was all about Eve

Caged across anonymous affairs

Over poetic contexts in fragmented narratives

Through expectant open-mouthed pockets where paradise

Would never be the same again

Eve has escaped the serpent

But not its bite, she chases the dragon now

The blackened souls will always rule,

But not i...

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The heat is back

Thick and furious

A sea of uncomfortable pressure

An atmosphere of humid torture

It thrives on energy farmed from bodies

Tugging our bones through our skin.

In spring it is so gentle

A friend gone for a while

But back and just as charming

As they ever were in the past

But with familiarity breeds the discomfort

Of growing suffocation and untended ne...

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Sunset Over Lupset (August 1968)

Lupset sunsets smelled of bonfires,

undercut with new mown grass,

wild mint by the kitchen window,

treasures in the strawberry patch.

Father sat with pint of shandy,

The mower cooling in the shade,

the rake stowed by the garden shed,

the kids with sparkling lemonade.

Summer sun dips on the estate

dragging shadows from th...

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Back To The Park

It’s mid July,

a summer’s day.

School is just

a memory away.

We lay on grass

and watch the sky

and count the clouds

as they pass by.

We talk of bands

we’d like to see -

Led Zeppelin, Quo,

Sabbath and Free.

Insects buzz,

a distant bark,

children playing

In the park.

You turn to me

and kiss my lips

and move in close,

h...

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forgotten are the times

our laughs filled the air 

gone are the times

we wished would never leave 

time passes

memories fade

in blistering august 

i shiver 

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I recently assembled these thoughts on coming across the poem's quotation from John Steinbeck while reading The Grapes of Wrath. I often suggested to my students the advantage to be gained by attempting an argument in opposition to what the student wished to argue. In other words, the good old Light and Dark strategy. The "Terrace" setting is Perth's main city thoroughfare, St. George's Terrace. I...

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Shall I compare thee to a Manchester summer’s day?

You’re a bit damp and soggy

I’d love to sit in your company

But the ground seems a little boggy

Outwardly bright, but temperamental

Presently fine, so I’ll risk it

As Carpe Diem is essential          

Blink and you’ve missed it

But thou art as bright as a summer’s day

Through skies laden with smog

From Ancoats, Droysl...

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The lake is still in the evening sun

A little breeze make the longer grass sway on the bank

and a ripple disturb the surface:

A mayfly lands

A swallow drinks and is gone before I see

With a rattle, a duck takes off from behind the island

Then it is still again

Beneath the reflections are fish

Sometimes - but not yet tonight -

A circle of ripples flows out from a rise

...

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Spell-binding hammer-pounded sunlight retina-

flinches squint-eyed revel-faces.  Crowd folk lost in

head clouds slow-revolve whilst time is on leave, passing

without fail – stopping to tell me not to hurry,

moving on unnoticed, startling late-crowds with

midnights and an early, well spent sun rise.  Band-lulled

we join a synchronised gyro-walk, pacing the

flow-gyratory past fo...

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There's nothing that can beat
Walking along the beach
With the waves hitting your feet
In the scorching heat

Miles of soft, golden sand
I run some through my hand
Waves splashing against the shore
Is a sound that I adore

Feeling the warm breeze
Puts me at such ease
I tilt my head up towards the sun and smile
And close my eyes for a while

This beach is my paradise
Its tranquility...

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There are homes and then there's children's homes

There are children's homes and then there are children's homes 

The one I knew was a home from home

Age four mum and her sister set one up 

With hard work, love and courage 

The biggest house my young eye's had seen

A large dappled wooden rocking horse to gallop and whoop for good

A magic garden with its own small wood

Falle...

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The end of the season

Brought to a close

Even when there’s a reason

Summer comes and goes

Do you know your summer’s a-fading,

Do you remember?

The hot sun, the warm cooled nights waning

Into September.

School was gone, and I — carefree all along

Oh! Now my old school worries are back

As that sun sets, I’m in sad song

Those shining days, soon to lack

The air beco...

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the concrete road

still dark and darkening night, the dead cold of dying winter,

rain against the windscreen, speed in easy, selfish solitude.

my shirt gives up the scent of soap.

(i have no other dream.)

noise surrounds me, the oil-ribbed sounds of a lost summer,

the meaningless bypass between here and some other place.

yet hands formed this path.

(i have no othe...

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English summers, often damp, can invoke long stifling twilights

Nothing landbound needlessly moves

Contrails crayon across the sky

So many, this close to London’s hub

Distantly, the buzz of a low plane, pleasure rider reaching up

Into the realm of the starlings as they sussurate

A car comes past in the lane droning away round the curves

Here the runway cross remains

The old...

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In Formby it never ever rains

Playground all summer long my early days

Playtime was forever then and there

Crowded caravan crammed with joy

Quick splash of water on the face

Dressing quickly, combed through hair

Breakfast rushed on happy faces

Checking windows for neighbour friends 

Are they up, are they ready 

And off we charge into seaside light 

Yesterday's plans r...

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I love that they scuff about in sarongs
That their hair is chestnuts and curls
Beads or gold string their necks
And they smell, strong
Of coffee and heat
Their women
Of lemons
Softly baked
Melanzane skin
I love their juggernaut tongue
Unbroken over cards and bambinos
Smoking
All cinnamon eyed
And glitter
They strut taught
Or well met
Farfalle paid gut
I love that only in Italy
Ov...

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You left us on
the last day of Summer.
Today is the
first day of Fall.
My tears are
falling for you.
Good bye my baby,
my LUCKY CAT.

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On a hot summers eve close to the twighlight,

the marble of crimson came rolling down past sight.

Misty clouds coating the ever changing sky.

birds whistle their last tune before slumber calls them.

Stars begin to light.

Soon it will be night.

Close to the twighlight.

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Swaying flowers,

passing hours,

birds in evergreens

happy smiles,

worth your whiles

and sappy little trees

muddy faces,

fraying laces,

and a gentle summer breeze

swaying flowers,

passing hours,

making memories

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The moon glows in the twilight of night
The sun shines during the luminous day
The moon can't glow with the sunshine
The sun can't shine without the moonlight.

That's how I feel when I look at you
A sensation that's hard to describe 
This might sound cliche 
But you're the one I've been dreaming of.

You're sitting there alone with your beauty
I'm watching you from the other side 
Just me...

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now is the fallow seeding time
   of grasses bending
children with counted ribs
   dash random as swifts
   their fun frantic as butterfly wings
foxglove proud they stand
   laughter punctuates
   like the yellow primrose
      rising through the tawning grass

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Just like a flower

our love 

blooms in the summer

and dies in the winter.

With nothing but memories left to show

what once stood tall,

has now

fallen.

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The warm and jolly streams of wind 

Are finding paths all through my hair

Just to escape the summer sun

And hope that it won't find them there.

They played this game all through my past,

But for today I couldn't care.

I have a problem on my mind 

Thant won't disolve in boiling air.

I dream of rest for broken minds.

I dream of peace inside my head.

The one I ...

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Stronger in numbers;

the leaves a deaf audience

clapping spring's last bow.

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Hello,

You are back finally

It's been dull around here

Without you

When you said goodbye

It marred my soul

But, let's forget the past

You are here now.

She has broken my hearing

With her high velocity screams

I built a wall.

Now that you are here,

She can't bring it down.

You light my insides

On fire.

Let go, see me fly;

See me young.

I'm craving ...

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this autumn morning

winter’s aperitif

is served on the rocks

shaken and stirring

come downpour now

unleash your jotting scribe and

cast the showery runes of fables untried

forge scripts along our droughty lanes

of songs for all that yet remain

or wash away those pages brown,

whelm witness to our temporal sway

we’ll listen to the eager eart...

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July was unbearably hot.  Thankfully it is cooler now, but at time though...

What’s up with UK weather?
It’s changed beyond all reason?
Where’s the wind and where’s the rain,
Our usual summer season?
Can’t you see I’m British and
I’m not designed for heat.
I need two handy buckets
On my legs instead of feet
There has to be some let-up
And I’m close to desperation
L...

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Before I start, I just wanted to let you all know I've been long-listed to be Penguin's 'Summer Wayfarer' (see here) but in order to make it into the shortlist of ten I need public votes - I'd be keen to emphasise the relationship between poetry and nature and document my travels in verse!

You can watch my video and vote for me here, I'd really appreciate it (and the deadline is tomorrow! ...

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A Step Towards Summer

I look into the mirror’s depthless space,

at what is standing in the shadows cast

by light dimming swift with each day amassed

and passing by me, at a startling pace.

I sprint to catch the future in a chase

that takes me on a journey to the past

and makes me wish each moment used will last

until the day they put me in my case.

...

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There’s nothing so pretty

As shrimping net city

Where rock pools are tempting

And hermit crabs charm

In gingham and sandals

With sand between our toes

A spade and a bucket

Held in freckled arms.

The grannies are wiry -

Running down to the ripples

A chorus of children

To left and to right.

As the gulls wheel and deal

On their pasty patrol

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Bit of a weird recording, sounds like there's two of me at points...

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After Summer,

Autumn is always brushed

Under the carpet

Like a half-baked afterthought

Before the winter arrives

With its blanket

Of snow rolled blues.

At the beginning of Autumn

There is a hesitation

In the breeze

Before the clouds

Darken the sky

And poison us slowly

With mustard gas.

There is a sadness

In the half c...

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quickly gone grey

and it looks like

it could burst into

a heavy rain storm

at any given moment. 

Summer is here. 

The wind is sneaking

through your coat

like knives

and the birds have

already gone back

down south.

Summer is here.

Umbrellas are lined up

blown inside out

like the great wall of china

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A good evening...

New Days Nostalgia

I was the quiet one,

Silly haired,

Back-bared for another

Burnt summer Sunday

On the beach.

We’d joke about

Nine foot waves,

The shape of a dolphin’s

Fin and the way

That the sea lion

Swam in by the pier.

And the broads,

Weeping in greens,

Sobbing lakes into

Sodden ...

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  a flashback

sun splattering us in technicolour,

stained with light

cheekbones aching,

currents thrumming

migraine hue at the edges

hearts beat faster

minds and eyes pinpoint

to infinite acuity

heads swell with

chests strain from

and laugh

Steps slapping

rhyming

heads back and

smiling.

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Take a moment and sit if you may,

by an English river on a warm summer’s day.

Relax and unwind - allow your mind to wander,

to ancient myths and poems to ponder.

The sound of the river is nature exhaling,

for she knows the beauty of this tale I’m regaling.

Eyes closed with the sun on your face,

you forget there’s a world outside of this place.

Nestled on pasture ...

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