When the moth is on the wing
and only drunks and nightjars sing.
In that cloistered, muggy, midsummer night
when pipistrel and owl take flight.
And the moon plays hide and seek with cloud
and creatures hide 'neath woodland shroud.
I rise from sweated slumber deep,
for I have promises yet to keep.
So I steal away into the indigo night
and startle corncrakes into flight.
As I wander, barefoot, through dew soaked grass,
to keep my vigil, no man I pass.
At dark rocks edge by the foaming sea
my thoughts meander, as your face I see.
In moonbeams glare I heave a sigh
and cry in anguish, "Why? Why? Why?"
Categories:
corncrakes, angst,
Form: Rhyme
From deep within encroaching night, there sounds
a solitary corncrake in the gloom.
His rasping never ending call surrounds
and echoes far beneath a cloudy moon.
A very private bird, he still must tell
the world at large of how he seeks a mate
to woo and win and then with her to dwell
in this his covert place inviolate.
Flag irises bloom in June out in the west.
The machair colours the Atlantic shores.
It’s here the corncrakes choose to build their nest,
but she alone her tiny brood ensures,
and sees them grow and ready to take wing,
for her sweet mate has gone philandering
and yet again, before the summer's through,
he’ll call to seek a new love to pursue.
Such is the way with corncrakes.
Categories:
corncrakes, bird,
Form: Rhyme
from rushing waters steal
invading fishes' spritely steel,
twixt heathery beetle's scar
and fluttery, flapping jar
the sentry hill now set
drags ferment's peace to fret,
while in the brave snail's eye
comes forth a baneful cry
from moorhen's craven beak
warm blood the bird to seek,
erect reminders, failing snow
disappear in morning's glow,
and from the corncrakes ring
shouts forth the jilted spring
Categories:
corncrakes, birth, nature, spring,
Form: Rhyme