September sun setting low,
Fall in all its golden glow;
Anticyclones hold transient sway
As mist forms ,at the close of day.
Dogwood,jasmine,marram grass
In flower ,as pressure fills the barometer glass;
Evening primrose in scented bloom
Fill Autumn with pungent perfume.
Winter migrants with welcome calls
As the Indian Summer falters,and falls;
Nature's tempo tarries,then slows
As all creation begins to doze.
The clear celestial sky, so inviting this night.
Walking among the clumps of marram grass
Along the dunes and sandy beach, so lit up white
Wind embraces the seas briny scent and weaves
into auburn long wavy hair, a playful tangled mass,
and dress like ship-sail; skin tight.
The sweet silhouettes lit bright by the moon.
I watch her from a far
as she walks along the beach.
She has become an island of sadness.
A recluse in darken world and countless
enclosing nights as the world runs aimless.
3/2/2023
Dogwood,jasmine,marram grass
In flower ,as pressure fills the barometer glass;
Evening primrose in scented bloom
Fill Autumn with pungent perfume.
Sycamore seeds twirl and twist
Onto a fairy-ring fungus tryst;
Stink horn capped with slime,
As carrion beetles pass the time.
Bramblings feast on bountiful mast ,
As the Autumnal harvest dwindles fast;
Yellowed leaves drift and decompose
Into next year's cellulose.
Winter migrants with welcome calls
As the Indian Summer falters,and falls;
Nature's tempo tarries,then slows
As all creation begins to doze.
&fog forms ,at the close of day.
Morning mist like ghostly specter
Eddies and swirls in dizzying array
Hovering over ocean and dunes
I walk shrouded in mystery
Listening to the sound of waves.
Ebbtide slowly reveals
Kelp and small crabs entwined
Ocean has a particular smell
Provoking thoughts of the deep
Like distant horizon I know is there.
Rockpools entice curious minds
As morning sun burns mist away
Red sea anemones cluster
Sharing pool with razor clams
Desperate limpets cling to rock.
Turning, there are the sand dunes
Sculptured by a master's hand
Decades of nature's creativity
Marram grass gently waves
Quite beautiful in an abstract way.
The bog cotton hisses in concert with the curlews bubbling wail.
The salt air stirs the marram grass, the sand sedge and sea kale.
Alone she walks in beauty 'neath the dappled harvest moon.
Her night-time wanderings witnessed by the nightjar and the loon.
She trips from dune to pebbled beach in wonderment and awe.
Revelling in her yearly sojourn as she dances on the shore.
With child-like innocence her eyes and ears dart at every sound,
as her naked body glides and weaves, feet barely touch the ground.
With the advent of the breaking dawn, she knows she must relent.
The shoreline beckons, the ebbing tide mean her time is almost spent.
She lies where shingle meets the strand as skin reverts to scale.
Then, she is gone, in a splash of foam and a swish of her mighty tail.
when respite was
deckchairs and picnics
on car blankets
behind
windbreaks
sand was blown
into sheltered spaces
behind
driftwood and
rock.
dunes
grew
as grains of sand
accumulated
over time.
then
winds and waves
ate away
at everything
in their path.
as resilient barriers
gave way to
the full power
of nature’s
destructive forces
the
erosion
cried out
for radical
intervention:
something
to keep things
at bay
and
buy time.
like
the big plastic doors
that closed behind me
inside the
promenade hospital.
like
the blue paper masks
and the blue paper hats
in
the theatre.
like
the antibiotics
and disinfectant
on
'o' ward.
like
the marram grass
on the dunes
at
ainsdale.
Again the machair blooms. Again these wild
Atlantic shorelines, battered but unbowed
as the marram grass, survive the wayward
blasts of winter, the silver sands endowed
with dancing colour, greeting the splendour
of the budding year. A close bound repertoire
of nodding harebells, celandines and thrift,
clover, thyme and tiny eyebright, near and far,
a sweeping backdrop to the wave-washed shore.
Sea campion, marigold and silverweed,
majestic iris, buttercup and mayweed,
bashful wild orchids, and a myriad more,
each in their order pays homage to the sun.
Bedazzling the eye, High Summer has begun.
There was not a "peep" among the trees in this autumn woodsy paradise.
The leaves were much "redder" than remembered in days long past.
An unfamiliar "pop" sound led my eyes downward, where I saw gray squirrel,
With his little brown "eye" focused on a walnut that had rolled from her tree.
A "hadedah" flew past, a rare bird for this magical place, a mysterious visitor,
Grass "dewed" to perfection, there was a crunch as we wandered further into the forest.
The "marram" grasses which bordered this paradise, were virginally left alone, unscathed
As the sun approached 'noon' we heard a renegade "peep", whose source is yet to be found.
The deepest part of the forest was a "wow" for me, I had never seen such beautiful vegetation.
My friend discovered a left behind "alula", probably from a blue jay judging from its markings.
I suggested we leave it here, "deified" in reverence by the charming protection of the forest.
We gave a sad "pip-pip" to the day’s end, as twilight overtook the forest, and we re-entered reality.
Written 10-3-2018 Contest: Palidromes Ii
Sponsor: Joseph May
A constant charging and retreating,
leaving behind the soaking sand,
is the ever changing of the tide,
pushing the sea against the land.
And all along the changing shoreline,
Pacific Gulls glide on patrol,
seeking out the ocean bounties,
of washed up departed souls.
There’s flotsam and old cuttlebone;
driftwood finally makes the shore.
Stints and waders chase invertebrate
stranded along the sandy floor.
And up above high water mark,
there is the victims of wild gales.
Dead sea grass in drying windrows,
meander below sand dunes in trails.
New Zealand spinach thrives and spreads.
Marram grass has stabilized the dunes,
and here and there is native spinifex,
among the burrows of communes.
These communes arrive in early spring
in thousands to the burrows each year,
so it becomes a special time,
with mutton birds returning here.
And constant charging and retreating,
leaves behind the soaking sand,
in the ever changing of the tide,
pushing the sea against the land.
the sand creeps
sand dunes grow... gaining ground
marram holds all together
desert mountains... dunes
imperceptible movers
yet always growing
on a windy day
a mile long sandy beach
not a place to be
sandy beaches
here one day... gone the next
hungry oceans
ripples in the sand
saltating grains form ripples
sand dunes nurseries
creatures of the sand
reptiles... insects... birds... mammals
oasis wildlife
You Wishing
You
on the spring shore
where waves applaud on sand
where marram grass resists
Here lives the coldest wind
and no one else is there but you
Staying to watch
with arms braced
watching a world
drown then reborn
You
imagining
devising the improbable
you
silent
wishing the impossible
you
with cold fingers gracefully
cupping an orchid
in hope, in soft hope
silent words
falling from your lips
Kisses from the night,
Greet the awaited sunrays:
Glistening beachscape.
She doesn’t wear shoes in the summer.
She likes the way the ground feels
In the creases of her curled up toes
She hooks them into the sand
Beneath the marram grass
And stands
An arrow pointing to the sun
The wind runs a wrinkled hand through her hair
And I watch her from the path
Feet pushing five inch spears
Into the rocky ground.
September sun setting low,
Fall in all its golden glow;
Anticyclones hold transient sway
As mist forms ,at the close of day.
Dogwood,jasmine,marram grass
In flower ,as pressure fills the barometer glass;
Evening primrose in scented bloom
Fill Autumn with pungent perfume.
Sycamore seeds twirl and twist
Onto a fairy-ring fungus tryst;
Stink horn capped with slime,
As carrion beetles pass the time.
Bramblings feast on bountiful mast ,
As the Autumnal harvest dwindles fast;
Yellowed leaves drift and decompose
Into next year's cellulose.
Winter migrants with welcome calls
As the Indian Summer falters,and falls;
Nature's tempo tarries,then slows
As all creation begins to doze.