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Poem
Past unconcerned hens that distractedly 
Scratch
Under frowning protestations from the
Sheltered Lee;
Into the cloaked shadows lain across the 
Cobbled courtyard,
Behind which squats the twisted form of
The old brooding, arthritic apple tree.
Past the neat little cow-byre 
Hosed and fastidiously scrubbed out twice 
A day 
With a fine tooth-comb;
The quaint and dipping, straw filled barn
Attaches itself determindedly  
To the crooked gable
Of Barjargs contented farmyard home.

Those cubit-width walls of Igneous rock,
Once weathered and drab,
Now thoroughly soaked in glistening white
Washed foams.
Slated, cool pantry with smooth and 
Polished marble slab;
Where, lying somewhat dejectedly,
To dispose:
Many a brace dispatched by the indifferent
Priest -
Glassy eyes staring out blankly 
In death's stiffened and vacant repose;
The early mornings freshly collected 
Brown eggs
Carefully arranged in woven baskets;
Pints of thick and creamy, unpasteurized
Milk
Poured into decorative, high-sided, orange
Coloured bowls.

Orange like the rusting sunbeam trapped
Inside each steaming droplet of summers
Oily dew;
Orange like the flattened landscape 
Arising distantly...
Under the slowly emerging far eastern
View.
Blurred outlines upwardly forming
When slowly peeking through;
Gathered veils pulled back to reveal 
Wantonly appealing, shimmering twirls 
Of palest streaky blue.

The seldom trod tracks that I knew so 
Well -
Remnants of an unremembered 
Iron Age;
Ancient tramping peoples
That bravely traversed - to hopefully evade,
The terrible grasp of Merricks awful hand
That squeezed the Silver Flowe
Into tangled blankets of knitted bog and 
Squelching peat;
Black slimes that downwards...downwards...
Downwards seep...

Smothering the cleansed bones of this long
Forgotten race;
Fragments of these shattered tribes 
Now nourishing sweetest meadow flowers...
Where, sprawling thinly, they perpetually
Strive
To quietly propagate;
Sacred memories of blue painted faces
The swirling shrouds of chilling mists 
Do avow to forever keep;
Comforting and protective roots gently 
Wrapping around the sanctuary of their 
Deeply immersed and sunken sleep.

Still onward's flowed the singing river
As between her watchful banks she 
Gratefully swept;
And covered by the racing stars I 
Wrapped about myself -
And in happy contentment soundly slept!
Onward flowed the jagged ripples 
That fractured the obscured reflections 
Within the streams -
As onwards sped the joyful passions
That bubbled over inside my eager dreams!
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