I rejoice to see that old wood five-bar gate
that still stands guard beneath the ancient beech
to a field sloping gently down the hill.
The gate from an old farm track - now lost to time -
has seen so many seasons, so many harvests pass
and must have known an age of scythes and stooks
of horse drawn harrows, ploughs and wooden carts.
What could it tell of the village...
Wednesday 6th February 2019 12:08 pm
To wake lit by that lunar light
Toiling from the depth of dreams
Misty minded from the night
So the distant land below the window seems
To see beyond the shaded hedge
Hear again the whisper soft
As bedewed we walked, that ghostly pledge
Those lovely echoes of a distant past yet waft
To sense again her presence there
Knowing how we walked at ease...
Friday 23rd November 2018 2:55 pm
It knows its time but has grown in the ancient hedge
escaping the billhook and the thresher blade
standing 'gainst the farmer's pledge
that every stem should be neatly laid
It is as large as it needs to be and no more
its spread has grown to contain all of its leaves
and each year it grows to store
just as many leav...
Tuesday 20th November 2018 3:52 pm
As an evening bat dips and feeds
Lost light dims down the summer night
To deep dusk blue as the bright sun cedes
To soft moon above beech tree height
In the gentle night's warm azure sky
The beech trees' majesty holds sway
Their silhouettes hide the lone owl cry
Black shapes caressed by owlish grey
These trees have lived so many ages
Their trunks have known the...
Wednesday 14th March 2018 2:43 pm
This allegorical poem came out of my awareness of time passing, and a sense of the ultimately insubstantial or superficial qualities of much of this life that, as we grow older, seem less important or valuable than they once were.
Faith, old friend, so wise and fulsome,
faded beauty at end of day,
draw me aside in a beechwood spinney,
make me swear on the code with...
Thursday 2nd February 2017 1:57 pm