Archive for the ‘nature poems’ Category

All At Sea

Posted: October 17, 2017 in nature poems, thought stream

At dverse tonight Kim is in charge of Tuesday Poetics and wants us to focus on a particular aspect of autumn. This was inspired by seeing lines of leaves drifting down river yesterday.

Strings of leaves stretch out
down river.

                A fleet of fire boats,

driven by the current.

Under full sail

                bouncing along, riding the ripples.

 Reds and ambers.

So light they barely touch water.

Bristling downstream,
an autumn invasion.

A growing flotilla. Countless boats

                launched from trees.

Joining our visions poured into the river,

The moors we saw

                heather, stonechat, dry stone walls
small bent trees, a palette of lichens.

The sunsets we saw

                breathing fire over the ridge

woods that ghosted out of the mists, a single swan,
moonlight, shadows, stars jewelling the weir.

This is the cycle, this is the ride
taking everything down to the river mouth.

At the turn of the tide,
the turn of the season

it’s all gathered up and carried away.

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West Exe Park

Posted: September 25, 2017 in nature poems, thought stream

At dverse tonight Mish is in charge of the quadrille: a 44 word poem that this time is to include the word ‘spice’.

The chef is an alchemist
sorting through his larder,
and first to hand is cardamom
which he mixes in with dawn.
Now he lines up saffron,
paprika and cinnamon.
Pulls out jars of turmeric,
ginger and tarragon,
but waits
for summer’s spice to fade.

Being Human

Posted: August 22, 2017 in nature poems, thought stream, urban poems

At dverse Grace hosts Poetics and is looking at borders. Our task ~ if we should accept it! ~ is to include the word in a new poem.

In mist-light the great white house
is blue-grey. Sucked into a
murk where borders fade.
Where the certainties of hedges,
fences, a double gate are suddenly
exposed as quicksand. Like
comfort
income
security
ambition.

From across the river I watch
the house slip in an out of view.
I wait for the sun
knowing it will come.
Like phases of the moon,
like the herb robert flower
on a roadside verge,
like the departure of
tree summer leaves,
like the cycle of life
I’m riding just now.

At dverse tonight it’s time to celebrate our 6th anniversary ~ and we’re doing it with a Quadrille this time set by Grace and to include the word ‘flicker’ Here’s something that happened in town earlier this evening.


It’s a plague, of sorts.
The evening semi-thick with ants.

After months underground
they’re stupid with light and flight.

Lace-winged walking along footpaths
or bumbling through the air.

Black spots pock marking late
sun streams. Swifts flicker high

readying themselves
for an evening banquet.

At dverse tonight it’s Quadrille time: a 44 word poem to include the word ‘storm’. This is actually something I saw while driving home from Exeter this afternoon.

He is working hard,
wing tip feathers flickering
like a silent movie,
tail constantly twisting and flaring.

He fights to hang his body
while behind a storm builds,
wind racing ahead of it .

Finally the buzzard surrenders,
is gathered up, hurled at the hills.

Recycling

Posted: May 9, 2017 in nature poems

At dverse tonight Bjorn Rudberg wants us to write a poem about soil.

Under a microscope
is an avalanche
of rocks and minerals

Boulders and stones
have been crushed
by elemental forces,

pounded out of vision.
Take a handful
of the remains,

fill a pot,
plant a seed.
Wait for a new world.