Embrace

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I stumbled upon you, standing alone, naked on the edge of the woods,

Your arm stretched out, beckoning me to come, closer to your grace,

Motionless in the winter sunlight, as if you had been waiting, for my arrival.

I draw up close, and wrap my arms around, your weathered skin.

Our essences touch, as one looking out, across the fields together,

Sharing our stories in silence, we hear each other, so well,

You enter my soul, loneliness in banished from us, with tear filled eyes,

My heart races in sadness, as I disengage, and turn around,

Walking away I look back, at you saying, “Goodbye Beloved Tree”

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Green Serpent

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Green serpent, I danced with you in order to forget,
But alas the memories returned whenever you left,
Just could not manage without your charming threat,
To take me far away from my mind so bereft.

Green magic, I felt the spell that you cast on my life,
And through your spirit I longed for it’s quick relief from strife,
Imbibing your essence till I was left in a trance,
Leaving me in perpetual need of that one final dance.

Green desire, I see you everyday and everywhere I turn,
But penniless there is no reason to stay with me, although I may yearn,
Has your love for me ended, am I now forlorn?
Alone with my sad thoughts, for you I shall morn.

Green Serpent, now I have found new friends at last,
True ones that give happiness and a love so vast,
So if you try to return some day and mess with my head,
Beware that I now dance with others, and will ignore you instead!

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Fireworks

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The spry touch of a burning gift,
Upon a fuse by a little spark in a manner so swift,
Ignites the fire of life and on a journey to embark,
Until parturition brings forth light from the dark.

How many gather round to observe the flight,
In anticipation of socially acceptable delight,
Will it be yellow, will it be blue?
Lest it should matter or under what colour flag it flew!

Some will fly high, others not at all,
A few may inspire and yet many more will just fall,
In this grand display that feels so dispossessed,
Can we not love the meek as much as the rest?

So whether it be with a fizzle, a crackle or out with a bang,
Deadly darkness soon returns to where living lights once swam,
And only a memory remains that disappoints as it fades,
Dimming recollections replaced by new firework parades.

Mast Year

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Under the burdened apple tree,
Late rubies tumble and fall,
By a lagoon of calm stillness,
Mists envelope like a shawl,
Furry acrobats enjoy swollen kernels,
Hints of future ciders are drawn,
Strewn in over abundance,
Across the garden lawn.

In the wild hedgerows of the hither-land,
That brim so full of life,
Cutting the rolling farmland,
Into a quilt of patchwork delight,
A rustling and something stirs,
Beneath feathers of green and gold,
Gatherers of harvest’s splendour,
Indeed they are now so bold!

Across a field of razors,
Reigns silence and a naked air,
Shadowless and almost featureless,
The land laid barren and bare,
Encircled by giants in autumnal robes,
Arms spread wide yet hang so low,
Prickly baubles burst at the seams,
Expectant creatures wait below.

To the forest of scarlet umbrellas,
Where the air fills with spinning wings,
Cloven hooves patter and rummage,
Amongst shells trampled by antlered kings,
Balmy days of sharing with peers,
And a right to feast and store,
Mast fills the eyes with joyous tears,
Like the glorious years of yore.

Foxy Spirit

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October has arrived, and both city dwellers and country folk alike may have noticed a subtle increase in the number of foxes that roam at night. The reason? During the later part of the year, in what is known as the season of dispersion, kits leave the family den and “disperse”, to seek out their own territories and establish new lives.

To many people, the presence of foxes may be seen as something controversial. However, in traditional cultures, the fox possesses a spirit associated with wisdom, cunning and guidance.

Here in this poem are my observations of this spirit in action on our city streets:

Seen through broad windows above polished oak tables,
Dark blanket of evening adorns the city in sables,
Coy figures shimmer between lonely street lights,
Pen is released by the hypnotic sights

In the gloaming they observe without being seen,
Their invisible presence scanning the scene,
Sudden amber pearl-drop eyes pierce the yellowy light,
Slender red muzzle narrows to black nares and snowy white.

Again like sleight of hand they slip from sight,
Then re-emerge from the shadowy night,
Spirit of vulpes silently glides,
With totem wisdom it effortlessly guides.

New season signals freedom and new adventures when,
Silent troops disperse from the den,
Bushy tailed shaman casts magic! all are withdrawn!
Pen starts to scribble on page until dawn.