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Tuesday, 13 June 2017

Cut It

A riot of birdsong
Yesterday's mowing of the lawn
A resounding success

We all bat off of each other a bit
Always fearful, in danger
That we may fall out of the orbit
That is psychological equilibrium

The big birds are not always bravest
Though in full emigres flight
Canadian geese are a vision sublime

The cat stayed out all night
Unusual for this declared avoider
Of anxiety, caused by the tormentor
That is next doors vengeful minx


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Monday, 12 June 2017

Setting it up

Only
In what I stand
Strong boots
Thick breeches
Hardy shirt
Herringbone overcoat

An endless supply of:
Pens and paper
Nerve to kill
Ability to light fires
Lack of fear re sanitation
Books of sorts

In bed at dawn
Write a few verses
Drink ice-cold spring water
Warm up the stew pot
Hunt and fish
Stroll and play

Take time out
Draw plans
Study the cosmos
Think repeatedly
About organisation
Then prepare for bed


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Sunday, 11 June 2017

Idyllic

I shall rise
Shall I rise
Time to think
It is the time
That I need to rise

A cycle
Cycle by day
Cycle by night
To cycle together
Birth to death

Listen
Listen out
Bleat of lamb
Bark of dog
Silence of wind

It is to be
Be one's own
One's own destiny
Destined to be
I am then only me

Drift
Drift in, drift out
Stones on walls
Gates in fences
Sheep fed to market

Hear me
Hear me clear
Hearts so lonely
Minds so pure
Souls never so disturbed


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Saturday, 10 June 2017

Day in life

Cold as I rise
Always draughts
Through doorways
Or window frame

Stone dwelling
Away on the hill
Only livestock
For company

Start with fire
Drink tea
Slice of ham
Swill of face

Gather sheep
Help with birth
Of one or two
Straggling lambs

Field to field
Mend walls
Fix fences
Weigh up

Which animal's
Time as come
To leave the land
Headed for the table

First of light
Last of light
Warmed up stew
Busied reflections


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Friday, 9 June 2017

Four Seasons, Of The First Half-Hour

Restfulness
The winds are still
Trees, without leaves, are in stasis
Even the stream
Well, for sure, it is no longer in spate

Calmness
The sky is entirely grey
Mist, without drive, is ambient
Even the gulls
Apparently they too are in slow motion

Liveliness
The daffodils break through
Bright flushes of sunlight yellow
Even the partridge
Struts his stuff in the vicinity

Peacefulness
The energy to reflect
Space, in which to untangle
Even creative inspiration you see
Warms to the purity of the atmospherics


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