Clouds

 White vapour wings are flying east

And we watch them like we are birds
Hawks of day hovering near to shore
To hunt truth in all its soft precision
Grey clouds strafe rapidly over the sky
They take away the last of the snow

Merry Christmas

The wonder of Christmas is you

You are a true light that shines
The first glimmer of the pole star
You light my footsteps always
Even when you are not here
If I made an essence of humanity
Its main constituent would be you
Filled with the grace of the Earth
And I wonder how you could grow
Adult without and a child within
Who still values the joy of this life
And is forever filled with its noble spirit
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

Winter Solstice

On the hallowed winter solstice rejoice

Sun shall rise like a shrunken potentate
Disappear away so soon to night like regret
Yet the war is over but for the reparation
And with their bluestone heels to the east
See light walk upon the Stonehenge monoliths
And so is wound the great clock of antiquity
And the king now renewed begins to ascend
Ready for summer among his beloved Sarsens

The Plan

To have a to-do list; then to carry it out

Good intentions alone are not what it's about
If you value your work than make a plan
Back it up now before the poo hits the fan
I have written for weeks of all I was able
Now all is lost surely as though it were fable
So now on file I shall keep my spidery hand
Till all my work is safe just like I had planned

Vanguard

Clouds roll in from the sea; the first vanguard of change

They break upon land unseen but who would be sentinel here?
To witness this vision coalescing under the high sundered layer
And none may now ascend to it and study the retreating waves
That fall back under a swift setting sky to leave the west in ruin

Howl

Inside the dreaming

The dog howls
Opens his throat
To airy nocturnal song
Like a nightingale
Lost in the gloom
And for me what hurts
It is always in darkness
When he is alone

Colossus

The colossus of an endless length

Size is the guarantee of strength
The immovable fixed within space
Ancient monolith of timeless grace
And all its windows of empty light
Kiss the world in transparent might

Swans

Swans flow across glass lawns

They shimmer in winter sunlight
Icebergs gliding upon a frozen lake
To fade distant with a fleeting grace  
Transitory as snow falling on water

What

The tall tree of hope clad in a bark of ages

That now fissures and shreds down to earth
Like gulls that catch stale bread on the wing
Or a windmill entrapping the world's breath
Then of what may exit and what may stay
When dreams begin to cut upon the edge of day
And all I wish is to take my leave to a pardon
Like an unwilling debt, years of neglect harden
When night gives way again to yet more light
Who will kiss the wind and say goodnight

November 2014

Smokebush

4 frame panoramic view from Darwen Tower towards the Lake District

 

Autumn colour at the lake

Walk

Walk softly into the night

You do not have to wake me
But have a care for the rain
It is cold this time of year
And of sentiment; beware!
Pretend I was never there
Leave me asleep amid dragons
Or in the darkness return
And we may watch stars
Wonder of the great things
Till the sky again lightens
And the dark heavens fall

Jewels

But still the jewels of a northern street

Are the grubby kids with nowt much to eat
The social don’t care; they don’t give a spank
That's why mum's gone to the local food bank
Clothes are not so neat and manners quite bad
I blame Apple not giving the poor a free iPad
They're freezing the benefits and saving money
But they've got lots of bombs; isn't that funny?
All these poor kids will grow up in such need
And all they'll see is our short-sighted greed
It's tough at the bottom so they always say
Especially when it's done the Lancashire way

Sugar

As caramelised sugar yielding to the spoon

The leaves will crack and shatter underfoot
Till the hasty western showers come tonight
To run down the flowing slivers of moonlight
Shafts of silver breath that pierce empty branches
Onto blanketed foliage laid upon sleeping world
So I will walk softly into the moistening night
Leave you to slumber among the warm dragons
Of sentiment beware; but was life ever so sweet
In the shadows with my thoughts watching stars

Creation

Not one more piece of wood

Nor bracket or screw
My creation is complete
And I shall rest a little
Then I shall raise my henge
With its heels to the east
And let the sun walk upon it

Salt

Out in a salty bay there are no flowers

To grow in water the colour of earth
No reassuring land would be under trepidous feet
That now walk upon the luminous pearl mussel shells
Dropped by gulls onto stony ground like bombs
Crack open these eggshells of the sea and dine
And I small blob of organics in this inlet of time
Cracked apart by the inequalities of ignobleness
Take tea at the Midland hotel at quarter to three
Soft, fruited scones and mugs of hot, steaming tea
But through window what vistas arise on the other side
Rolling English hills stumble like drunks into the sea
Mountains rise like titans into dense clouds of grey
There is no snow yet to cape the rocked shoulders
Of these Cumbrian middle earth sentinels that ward us

Dray

Above the ground in tall, tall Beech

Where neither wind nor rain may harm it
The dray sits upon high as a leafy turret
Sphere in woody filigree, touching clouds
A keen eye may linger in awe over it
Now the leaves have left for earth
And in the fastness of its kingdom
The squirrel sleeps dreaming of its spoils

Song

 Summers screen now pulls back on autumn

Leaves fall; reveal the empty filigree vistas
Wooded casements without a green drapery
But then softly a twittering murmur comes
Wanders and flutters to ears; the notes of pleasure
Upon naked branches, yellow and blue is still seen
And the Blue Tit sings its optimistic song still
For joy is ever in the world no matter the season

Druid

Would that a Druid might come

Walk with me under leafy Oaks
Between solstice and equinox
Along the invisible ley lines
We'd gather mistletoe and wood
From the apple tree boughs
Talk of the divination of sunlight
And we would raise a henge
To be our talisman and protector
Not of stone, but of wood
And retreat within its circle
And wait withal until spring

Winter

What may winter do?

When it comes soon
Sweeping down brown vales
With icy, silver teeth
To gnaw upon its sibling's remains
Warmth shall desert us
Hope shrink in fading light
For a little time we are bereft
But this arc of intemperance will pass
For nothing may have totality
Not you, not I, not kings or queens
And if I lived in a deep cave
In arrogance thought to hide
I would feel winter descend above
For if it is a state of the soul
What winter may do; is renew us

Sardines

Of rock and sea on Cornish coast

Where fishermen return and sardines roast
In cabled woollens from fairest hand
Is the signature for the corpse
That makes it back to land
So I leave soon for the deep, green sea
If I never return set a light for me
Of dreams and hope we'll say no more
All was ended behind wedding door
This land is beauty in all its days
But my heart is the sea
In all its watery ways

Dare

Breathing out cold dread

As a dragon's winter fire
Blown from frosted lips
Tales telling disaster come regularly
From the last of a withering seed
So then let them wither chattering
But let us dare to hope
And let us be finally at peace

Pairs

 

The gentle Jay in rushing flight
Hides by day and sings by night
Lives its life without most cares
And always seen in mated pairs

The raucous magpie in hopping dance

Is always looking to take a chance
When seen alone sorrow will come
But see a pair and good fortune is done
 
The black night sky upon his wing
Guttural crow never learned to sing
Often he can seem to be all alone
But always close his mate does roam
 
The carrion birds of town and field
Omens tell of the fear they wield
Seen about in all kinds of weather
And always they are seen together

Autumn

Autumn has come forward as heir
Queen of rot and discolouration
Leaves swarm about her feet
Settle and roll unto the wind stills
As she walks upon dwindling grass
Autumn begins her reign of ruin
And all that moves flees to home
Or else dies upon her frosty touch

Rainbow

The black void of celestiality lies above us

From out night airs fountains of colour appear
A slow animation drawn of rainbow sparks
Pyrotechnic canvas in celebration of triumph
Or would that it should seem that way to us
Lest we forget its true meaning; its merciless loss
Of the last man to enter parliament with integrity
Though misplaced it was sincere in its dark belief
And now on November the fifth of each year
Four nations celebrate the redemption of the king
Where within each realm a quarter of Guy Fawkes resides

Ingenuity

When ingenuity and a sense of justice fail
Slips into miasma of familiarity and comfort
To diminish progress for a thousand years
Or that progress stifle and shall never reappear
Still birthed by our ancient traditions of greed
Till we are fashioned futile indentured shadows
Puppet men stringing bow from empty quiver
And love has all but left the world for me
Then (only then) will I cry the world is unfair

Autumn Colour

Tulip Tree leaves

Subterranean

But there is no light underground

Deep below the Yorkshire Moors
No scared flame or flickered match
To shoulder awe and wonders catch
Water was the fuel of enlightenment
To smoulder away the toughest rocks
By slow drip and flow of millennia
Shape cathedral vaulted catacombs
And if a liquid can carve such marvel
Though none could see its work
Then my efforts are not wholly vain
For when you have read these words
Trickles of prose may remain behind

 

 

Stump Cross Caverns is one of Britain's premier show caves, located in Nidderdale on the border of the Yorkshire Dales National Park. We are a site of special scientific interest (SSSI) and is home to some amazing natural formations...

Parthenon

This is no Parthenon I build here

No libations or offerings shall I bring
To lay with its colonnaded serenity
Deities will shun it; other will mock it
But I shall marvel and take joy in it
Though its true be false to the eye
For this was built of my cunning
And to me it a wonder of my world

Scorpion

The last ragged wasp of summer

Sting worn away in unvarying service
Now a blunt instrument of threat only
She looked into my eyes as she passed
Then flew into the misty, midday sun
Farewell vespine scorpion of hedgerow
Unknown Soldier of the forgotten hive
The last of the combatant phalanx
Of yellowed-black warrior Amazons
Battered now by unending warfare
Take the last of the slowing nectar flow
Then fall asleep when the first frost comes

Waiting

Light fails and day becomes naught

Cygnets pale and move to white
They glide in new chitted flocks
The colour of snow; purity of coldness
Upon soft flowing rivers and canals
Yet autumn will not come out
It sits hidden upon fading days
We see its penumbra of gilded promise
Yet it clings still to summer's embrace

Fools Gold

There is no gold better than a fools

Nothing so lustrous; or held so bright
It gilts all the sights as yet unseen
A fool sees the world as it was made
Phased within waves of contentment
Being is never what we take in anger
It can never be about what we may give
Life asks no deals; no currency or fee
It wishes only for us to pass by untouched
Wander as eternal children at all its marvels
So if I am lost in a wonderland; let me be
For all questions high and swift peel away
Fall aside in inconsequentiality to just one
Will I return one day to this fair, fair world
And answer comes back that I have never left
For a fool and the world are never parted

Quinta

High upon volcanic cliff

I dream of greenest Quinta
It sits just below the clouds
Drenched by temperate breath
I see the glint of a far off sea
From a balcony of bougainvillea
If I were a bird I would perch
Upon the white balustrade
Look where my heart might fly
And if I were a mortal man
I would like to live and die here
Among the honey coloured rocks
That nurtures the vines and olives

Triptych

 

A Triptych* (three panelled painting) of Pampas Grass (ok not a triptych in the strict sense of the word but similar) ok , ok not a triptych at all then

 

 

 

From Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triptych

* A triptych is a work of art (usually a panel painting) that is divided into three sections, or three carved panels that are hinged together and can be folded shut or displayed open. It is therefore a type of polyptych, the term for all multi-panel works. The middle panel is typically the largest and it is flanked by two smaller related works, although there are triptychs of equal-sized panels. The highest price ever paid for an artwork at auction was $142.4 million for a 1969 triptych, Three Studies of Lucian Freud, by Francis Bacon. The form can also be used for pendant jewellery.

The triptych form arises from early Christian art, and was a popular standard format for altar paintings from the Middle Ages onwards. Its geographical range was from the eastern Byzantine churches to the Celtic churches in the west. Renaissance painters such as Hans Memling and Hieronymus Bosch used the form. Sculptors also used it. Triptych forms also allow ease of transport.

From the Gothic period onward, both in Europe and elsewhere, altarpieces in churches and cathedrals were often in triptych form. One such cathedral with an altarpiece triptych is Llandaff Cathedral. The Cathedral of Our Lady in Antwerp, Belgium, contains two examples by Rubens, and Notre Dame de Paris is another example of the use of triptych in architecture. One can also see the form echoed by the structure of many ecclesiastical stained glass windows. Although strongly identified as an altarpiece form, triptychs outside that context have been created, some of the best-known examples being works by Hieronymus Bosch, Max Beckmann, and Francis Bacon.

 

Here's a real one

 

 

 

Master of Frankfurt, (Maestro de Francfort), Triptych: Sagrada Familia con ángel músico, Santa Catalina de Alejandría, Santa Bárbara, 1510-1520, Museo del Prado, Madrid

 

 

Succession

In a vicious checkmate from subordinates

The honey queen’s realm must always end
Bested by mortality she submits her fecundity
Sacrifices all her latent power for greater peace
The virgins emerge renewing the hive to calm
And she sits atop the last autumn honeycomb
Before the new mated  ruler ascends her throne

The Robe

On autumns creeping robe

Flecks of gold are laid out
They settle on yellowing dales
Colour the fading purple moors
The spent bunting of summer falls
Cast down by fleeting storm

Bridge

But what may cross this bridge?

Surely vanity would glide
Mist evaporating under levelling sun
Pride would swim
Thrashing water churning haste
But I may cross this bridge
For I built its back
And it will bear me now
For I lighten with age

Garden 2014

Facts and Figures

Unemployment is once again going down
But not so you'd notice in this old town
Probably politically incorrect to speculate
But I think the figures don’t quite calculate
Is it the numbers on which we should focus?
Sums that have been subject to hocus pocus
Full employment is maybe not so great a goal
In a modern world we should save the soul
Sure we can all work for ten pennies a day
But not just so prosperous can all day; play!
The world is dividing into its base elements
The poor laid down as worthless sediments
It's is now time to share; to make things better
But I fear the cold, damp, poor will only get wetter

ReBirth

When the tide retreats

Gulls cry on naked shores
Released of its foamy clutch
Pulled by the moons touch
It slips back into its birthing pool
You could have done no more
Do not look behind
Do not wait for me
Follow it across the sea

Pond life

Pond life clings fast to matted weed

Waiting for winter is next year's seed
And I wish to clear away the green
But fear other sights may be unseen
So I shall stay this mad chaotic passion
Forgo this obsessive order to fashion
For the libretto of life is hiding tight
I cannot risk them to winters might