You are welcome !
It is perhaps the growing dark, the cold chilling gloom, the quickening fall of night and those pretty illuminations that sit in windows and on eaves, gable ends, the cold electric guttering lights of my unseen neighbours, that cause Mrs Heron to talk of sympathetic magic and of trying to bring the Sun back ?
Are they, the good Christians around us, aware of what their hidden Pagan soul has led them into ?
The Solstice Tree, the evergreen a display of continuing life is being decorated, as I write.
Mrs H is well able for that, her skilful hands and artistic bent do it well.
She has just asked me 'What do we have at the top?' 'A Frog !' I said, pausing then to say 'Well how about the Witch instead?' I am of course totally wrong. It is the returning reborn Sun
The Frog goes over the door attached to the Deer tine and The Witch is hidden in the tree somewhere and The Owl perches wherever he can find a prominent place, among the lights which have been neatly spun around.
Don't look too close though, for there is naughty gnome in a state of undress sitting beneath the tree.
Some echoes of Winter sit below
A WINTER OFFERING.
Winter’s sharp passion sings
Thro’ black brittle thorn limbs
Over old Áine’s fertile plains
Where summer ferns once grew
Lush: in valleys - hidden places
Deep where springs weep.
Eriu’s blood flows fresh, new
birthing stone frosted icicles
to glint in watery sunlight,
as a rapier
sword of
youth.
© MRL 26. 12. 2001
SOLITUDE DISTURBED
The Sparrow Hawk on patrol
soundless swift sweep of wing
Prey in sight divides light
To kill disappear beyond bright.
Creeps child of forest's edge
stop, listen, one white scream.
A rapid rapier's beak struck
twilight to red dark death.
A spiral hidden from sunlight
tunnels through black earth
Family cavern warm mourn
their summers first born.
©MRL NOV 2007
Spatial Battle
Unhindered swirling waves
born of an untamed power
rotated by Sun Moon energy
Whose long seas seek
scream a wild throaty roar
To smash the fortress cliffs
asunder; wet wearing winds
In unceasing hunger battle
Plunder an ancient guard
of old Devonian stone.
To reclaim space, land
on which to expand.
Pulverised rock - small sand
floods wide the old boundary
In pride of new sea-room !
© MRL NOV 2007
I couldn't see the gnome, but the tree looks pretty and so does the wreath on the door. Winter has hit us sharply here in NL. Bring back the sun...I'll drink to that!
ReplyDeleteThat's the trouble with gnomes Vallyp they nip off to the pub on chilly nights! It is -5 C here & the wind chill has brought it -12 Roll on Spring I say.
ReplyDeletePlease forgive me.
ReplyDeleteI followed VallyP here and discovered a very comfortable place to pause amid blogland.
Your tree and decorations are lovely!
As is your prose.
Mind, I will not forgive you for letting go of your poetry!
It is beautiful.
Now I'm off in search of that gnome, as it is a cool evening on this side of the pond, as well.
Dear Dale there nothing for me to forgive you for, because you are very Welcome to comment here. Thank you for your appreciation of tree and prose.
ReplyDeleteRegarding my poetry, perhaps it is better to say that I am no longer a 'captive poet'. It is just that these days I only write when the mood takes me. As opposed to the poem controlling my mind and awaking me at 3 in the morning to compose - Yes that's how it was :-)
How very inviting and intriguing! I'm glad for you that the inner poetic voice doesn't disturb your slumbers any more. Mine doesn't wake me up that I'm aware of, but if I can't sleep that's one of the things I do. I'm enjoying the imagery of it.
ReplyDeleteThe tree looks perfect in that setting :)
ReplyDeleteAnd the poems are equally lovely & inspirational!
x
O my !
ReplyDeleteTwo of you from the Westcountry commenting within 30+ minutes of each other: My thanks to you both for the warm comments which strengthen my heart !
A HAPPY WINTER SOLSTICE TO YOU ALL
I see we share winter spirits.
ReplyDeleteHave a wonderful Yule :))
What I like about both your poetry and your prose is the 'feyness' about it. I was trying to describe your blog to my friend here, and that was the word that came to mind. You always have a touch of the 'other' about your writing whatever it is. Don't ask me what the 'other' is...I'm so hoping you will know what I mean ;-p
ReplyDeleteI like it very much in any event!
Dear VallyP
ReplyDeleteDo you know that you have such an engaging smile !
So as to "feyness" and "touch of the other" it could be the close proximity of living where we do, to those that Eddie Lenihan (folklorist) describes as 'that other crowd' or the blame might be put on the late Harold Symons a former Headmaster: who encouraged me to write from my observations and senses.
Whichever - Thank you your warm comment :)