Wind Swept Beauty.
.
Upon hilly brackish tor
Of a wild inhospitable
Windswept ambling moor
Woolly sheep chew cud and bleat
In the shadow of the over looking
Rugged towering sister mountains
.
A sprawling sweeping land
Of tawny browns and greens
And carpets of purple heather
Laid by God’s hand in between
.
Linier lecithin blotched
Higgledy piggledy drystone walls
Boundary lines
Thickets of bracken
Woody copper copse
With steeple wind battered tree tops
.
Silver ribboned stream and brooks
Snaking through the rugged land
Gushing rushing over
Stone pebble and boulder
Sparkling cold clear and clean
Lazy pouting gasping trout
Suddenly turn and try to kiss the sky
As a flock of flapping crows
With raucous calls pass by
.
A harsh unforgiving land
Weather beaten unrefined
Rugged beauty upon sodden earth
On which it defiantly stands
Under temperamental moody
Ominous varied darkened sky’s
Capturing many a heart
And pleasing the eye.
.
Peter Dome©2020.
Categories:
drystone, beauty,
Form: I do not know?
Winter Fields Of Laois
Wind song whispered
between drystone wall and hawthorn
morning cold stiffening face and fingers
every clod-n-sod is an obstacle,
my head bowed like a bull
turning to look down the hill
moments pain and reflection.
A bitter droning voice
pressing coat to spine...
now curved as an eggshell
Above the trees a crow
a raggy dancer on the wind
is driven by the music
and rises
Categories:
drystone, winter,
Form: Free verse
Collecting vistas
from the wild untameable
misty moor
Rugged and timeless
for the eyes to adore
Spiralling hills and sweeping green vales
Plagued by harsh wind rain and hail
Bubbling brook
and silver ribboned streams flow
Where the purple carpets of heather grow.
Moss covered old drystone walls
baron trees from which the crow
shouts out it's raucous calls
A patchwork quilt of varying greens
and tawny browns
Where sheep majestically graze
with their woolly down.
A rustic stone cottage
long abandoned and run down
graces a hill
Where the wind blows through
the windows with a haunting howl
and biting chill.
A place where many an artist and poet
have been drawn to and inspired
Their hearts at one with nature and beauty
their imagination fired.
A place through the ages
Countless lovers have dreamed and swooned
under the velvet diamonded filled skies
and magical glowing moon
Love stories now left untold lost in time
the pledges of soft love and romance
ans sweet love divine.
An idle timeless wonder land
crafted by Gods loving artful hand.
Peter Dome.copyright.2013. Dec.
Categories:
drystone, art, creation, mountains, nature,
Form: Free verse
It’s Autumn weather, geese fly by,;
Autumn rust,red,gold,so gay
Drystone walls edging fields,
Apples gathered,holly berries
Flash so brightly
Look like flowers
Sun shines sideways,shadows long
Of trees appear.I dwell among
Woods of gentle beeches sing
Swaying with the sideward wind.
See their roots, all intertwined.
Feel their geometry in the mind.
Look up now into the sky,
See the V formation high.
Geese fly home at end of day.
My heart is moved by patterned dance
In this peace and great silence
My mind widens like the sky
And in this moment I would die,
So I would stay with this still vision
Of geese set out on autumn mission.
Snails in rain pools slither near
My feet upon the terrace here
And look,upon their whorled backs
All the sense of life is packed.
And yet so easily Life’s destroyed,
When blind foot steps into the void
Categories:
drystone, allegory, beauty, metaphor, nature,
Form: Rhyme