Long Wagtails Poems

In the twilight, 
Eilat, seems deserted, some Antofagasta,
Chile's North, before my eyes.	
Bordering Jordan not far, there,
where the  hills are tinted  in blueish-grey,
at the horizon.

A solitary shadow, grey, 
the harbour of Aqaba.
Small, distant houses,
scarcely...

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When
The Arrow Of God is
No Longer At Ease
Things Fall Apart
The Voice of
The Enemy Within 
Whispers At Dawn saying
Weep Not Child as
The House Boy named
Maru looks at
The Sterile Sky and
The People Of The City run after
Samankwe...

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When
'The Arrow Of God' is
'No Longer At Ease'
'Things Fall Apart'
'The Voice' of
'The Enemy Within' 
'Whispers At Dawn' saying
'Weep Not Child' as
'The House Boy' named
'Maru' looks at
'The Sterile Sky' and
'The People Of The City' run after
'Samankwe...

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My friends come dine with me, while nature writes its poetry. 
Corn, maize, sunflower seeds, bread, nuts and fruit for all 
your needs. A bowl of water for you to wash, a gentle sip and...

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The golden leaves fall off
the cherry trees groping 
on the steep cliff,
the tall marabous lament...diving
in dark, shallow waters 
their racous cry announce
the arrival of winter on the reef... 
while the poet dreams!

The lost kite has...

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...inspiration from 'Preludes' by T.S. Eliot


Loose leaves rustle. 
The grey light of evening dips and sways. 
Evening birds bleat
their lonely tattoo. 
Gone are the jays and the wagtails, 
the burnt-out end of smoky days.

No fancy...

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...inspiration from 'Preludes' by T.S. Eliot


Loose leaves rustle. 
The grey light of evening dips and sways. 
Evening birds bleat their lonely tattoo. 
Gone are the jays and the wagtails, 
the burnt-out end of smoky days.

No...

Read More

...inspiration from 'Preludes' by T.S. Eliot

Loose leaves rustle. 
The grey light of evening dips and sways. 
Evening birds bleat
their lonely tattoo. 
Gone are the jays and the wagtails, 
the burnt-out end of smoky days.

No fancy...

Read More

Loose leaves rustle. 
The gray light of evening dips and sways 
and night closes in. 
Gone are the jays and the wagtails, 
the harbingers of better days. 

No fancy gadgets, 
just a jar of pencils...

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Loose leaves rustle. 
The gray light of evening dips and sways 
and night closes in. 
Gone are the jays and the wagtails, 
the harbingers of better days. 

No fancy gadgets, 
just a jar of pencils...

Read More

Loose leaves rustle. 
The gray light of evening dips and sways 
and night closes in. 
Gone are the jays and the wagtails, 
the harbingers of better days. 

No fancy gadgets, 
just a jar of pencils...

Read More

The verdant leaves
of the cherry trees
rustle as a wagon
loaded with corn
rides deeper into the wide ruts
of a rustic road,
hungry ruminants wallow
by a limpid lake;
cheerful kids wave
and wagtails warble
at my unexpected arrival...
suddenly my Dalmatian barks. 

O...

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Each one of us follows a specific quest,
and there many different ones;
for me it's that passionate love which blooms
in spring when rain becomes mist.


Watching roses drip as eyes that weep restores
the memory of that forgotten...

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Waking up at dawn
with incandescent lights
on my subdued frawn...
receding to warm sheets;
recognizing the petrel's flight
with the hawks pursuing it in delight,
while spiders hang on dusty webs
and the incessant thrush sings...

Waking up at dawn
with sunken eyes,
not...

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Birdwatcher

This passionate, keen Ornithologist, 
Is an interest, I profoundly pursue. 
With the upmost of dedication, 
To Black Tern & Long Billed Curlew. 
 
Never a Twitcher, or just an obsession, 
Binoculars on hand to observe....

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