Tuesday, 15 December 2009

Dark v Light

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


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


© MRL 26. 12. 2001


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


  1. 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!

  2. That'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.

  3. Please forgive me.
    I 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.

  4. 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.

    Regarding 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 :-)

  5. 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.

  6. The tree looks perfect in that setting :)
    And the poems are equally lovely & inspirational!

  7. O my !
    Two 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 !


  8. I see we share winter spirits.
    Have a wonderful Yule :))

  9. 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

    I like it very much in any event!

  10. Dear VallyP
    Do 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 :)


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