Enchanted Forest

The sun shines through the pine trees in the Enchanted Forest,
Moss as thick as a carpet, cool and damp underfoot.
Trees uprooted by wind and snowfall from winters past,
Lay on the forest floor, like the graves of heroes gone,
Or decaying bones of slayed dragons from another time.
Is this where they live? Faeries, goblins, elves and trolls?
Do they hide in amongst the trees or under the roots?
Is this where giants stride amongst the trees
pushing them aside like long grass?
The visitor breathes in the sharp, northern air, enraptured by the beauty
Of this place of natural magic and wonder, a place of calm.
Sighing and turning away, she returns to the reality of the harsh grey world,
Of cars, noise and modernity, vowing to return to her faerie kingdom soon.

Curiosity

Curiosity grabs the youth
What’s that? Over there! Look!
Strange object with hard cover,
That’s what we oldies call a book.

He picks it up with great interest,
The words all printed in black.
Touched him like a miracle
Imagination flooding back.

From great heroic deeds,
To adventure and romance,
Fiction and non fiction
Go on, give printed books a chance!

Another day

Another day, another pill
She grimaces as she swallows.
How many more will she have to take?
One for pain, one for fatigue, one for nausea
Is it worth it?


Another day, another test
Doctors can't decide.
What is it? What is the diagnosis?
Hypermobility, EDS, Fibromyalgia?
Or all three?


Another day, another trip.
Why is she in the disabled parking?
She is to young, it's obvious!
And she has children, can't be disabled!
I wish that were true.


Another day, another form.
Social security checks and details,
Stress and complications.
I wish I could work 9-5,
I really do.


Another day, another judgement.
Before you judge someone,
Try being in their shoes.
Experience their illness.
Or one like mine.

untitled

Crystal clear night sky.
Stars and moon shining brightly,
Fields turn green to silver,
Millions of tiny diamonds,
Sparkle in the early morning light,

Summer over, swallows gone.
Starlings arrive en mass;
Form large black clouds,
That dance in the evening sky,
Like an avian corps de ballet.

The wind has changed.
Geese fly over calling ,
“This way, the lake is this way”.
They are just visiting us
For their winter vacation

Animals in hiding.
In burrows and nests.
Stocked up with food
For the long duration,
Of cold, intemperate nights.

Early morning, sun rises.
Bringing only light.
No longer warming the air.
Battling with the north wind,
For climatic supremacy.

Once

Once I was young,
Living life.
Now, older
Maybe not wiser.
Looking back I remember;
Sometimes with regret,
Sometimes with tears of laughter,
Sometimes with a wry smile.
At the past.

Heading North

We are heading north!
Heading to the home where we have never lived.
North to where the cold winds blow
Where Aurora dances through the night skies.

Going to the midnight sun!
Where the sun never rises in winter.
Where waterfalls freeze
Into shimmering glass-like sculptures.

Where the mythical past
Rubs shoulders with modern progress,
In harmony together.
Where our hearts and us belong

Sorry...

Sorry
The word that tries to explain away a million sins.
Sorry
for your loss (even though we never liked them).
Sorry
for lying (I never thought I would get caught).
Sorry
for keeping you awake (get a life and get out of bed).
Sorry
The easiest word to say, hardest to imply with honour.
Sorry.

Harvest moon

He glows,
Imitating Sister Sun.
Harvest Moon,
Casting midnight shadows.
Round face,
Huge, full and smiling.
The world,
Illuminated by moonlight.

Waiting

She waited for his arrival
And knew it would not be long,
She didn’t like to be kept waiting,
Hoping nothing had gone wrong.

She waited a little longer.
Where was he? Why so late?
She began to worry,
How much longer must she wait?

Suddenly she knew it!
He is coming, on his way,
She was ready now to hold him,
Her new baby, born today.

The strangest beauty

The season is changing
Leaves fade from green to brown
A single rose, struggles to hold on to summer*

The wind is blowing
Leaves fall from the trees
Like tears mourning over a lost love

The strangest beauty
Of the dying summer
Captured with Nature’s palette






*inspired by my dear friend Lisbeth in Norway who wrote that line on a forum

Aurora, the Tricky Lady.

She dances in the cold night sky,
Over the northern lands.
Showing the folds and shades,
Of her sheer, simmering gown.
She bewitches all who see her,
In the cold northern night.
The mystery of her existence,
The “Tricky Lady” always enthralls.

Tale of old Gyp Smith's Horse (In Forest Dialect)

Oy zid a gurt bug oss
A-squttering dun thu strit
'Im ad no royder on iz back
An no zhus upun iz vit
"Vetch thic bugger 'ere Ol' Butt,
Im'z one ov Gyp Zmith's lot"
Zo we ran afer thic damn 'oss
As vast as uz kids couldst
Thic 'oss 'im did squitter vast
We coudtn't ketch 'im avore im vell
Doown thic spwile yup to iz dyuth
Poor awld Zmithy, 'im did yell
"Ztupid bloody 'oss, now I girt sod all te flog
The missuz er will do er nut, I yunt gwain wum O'ell"
The bwoys they did tuk im, to the rizing zun
t' drunk wi zider is sorrers dip
An left im in awld Soudley Bruk so he couldst av a kip.
Ne'r in Vorest were 'im zin agyun
His caravan were up and gyon
Lazt zin 'eading Chepstow way
The missuz drivin', wi 'im running on.






Translation



I saw a great big horse
Running down the street
He had not rider on his back
And no shoes upon his feet
"Fetch that bugger here old friend
He's one of Gyp Smith's lot"
So we ran after that damn horse
As fast as us kids could
That horse he did run so fast
We couldn't catch him before he fell
Down that spoil heap to his death
Poor old Smithy, him did yell
"Stupid Bloody Horse now I got sod all to sell
The Mrs, her will do her nut, I'm not going home..oh Hell"
The boys they did take him, to the Rising Sun
To drown with cider his sorrows deep
And left him in ols Soudley Brook so he could have a sleep
Never in the Forest were him seen again
His caravan was up and gone
Last seen heading Chepstow Way
His Mrs driving, with him running on.

Time

Time

Time moves on
Time heals
Time forgets

Time

Time to remember
Time to think
Time to regret

Time

Time that lives
Time that works
Time that neglects

Time

Skadi

The ground sparkles
Like it is covered by a million diamonds
Everything a blinding whiteness.

Coldness bites
Deep into my lungs as I breathe
Sharp, clean,  freezing air.

She had come,
Graced us with her icy presence,
Skadi has brought forth winter.

Port Talbot

Port Talbot

A town

An enigma

Dual personality

It has

Identity crisis

To the left

steelworks,

factories,

oil refineries

pollution,

chimneys,

emissions

and more.

To the right,

hillsides,

woodlands,

bright yellow gorse,

homes,

gardens,

Schools.

Two ways

of life

separated

by the M4

No Cards

No cards come through the door,
No parcels in the post,
No notes or letters coming,
From those she loved the most.


Old age is creeping on her,
But age comes at a cost,
Those close friends and family,
Through time have now been lost.


She sits alone just waiting,
For when her time is done,
No longer sad survivor,
No more the remaining one.

Autumn

September sun warm and pleasant, no jumper required
The shade, cold, biting, season is turning
Sandals and shorts away until summer
Time to hunt out coats, jumpers and socks

Shops are full of scarves, hats and gloves
No sun cream or sunglasses on the shelves
No bikinis, flip flops or sun hats
Just cardigans, cold remedies and boots

Bird no longer sing as loudly in the misty morn
Soon the frost will come and the wind shall blow
Children breathe dragon breath on the way to school
Leaves are changing and falling

Farmers are harvesting while the sun shines
Roads are full of tractors loaded with hay
Essential feed for animals in the winter
When no grass can be seen

Coalman is busy delivering his sacks
Of black coal to thankful families
Worshipped like a Pre-Christmas Santa
Bringing the gift of heat and warmth

Soon we will huddle round the fire
Watching the flames dancing in the grate
Listening to the wood cracking in the hearth
Drinking mugs of hot chocolate curled up in a chair

 Winter will soon be upon us with her cold vengeance
Turning water into ice on paths and pavements
Sparking snow will cover the road stopping cars from travelling
Inside we are safe and warm, together in hibernation.