No harmful or irksome thoughts
stir this mind to absolute madness,
and away from annoying, frequent sounds:
only peacefulness soothes irritated senses;
I may fall asleep and dream
in a state of false reality,
letting the fanciest fantasy
enter the bloodstream!
The crimson sunset arising over the wind-swept moor
alleviates the mood of daily woes such as this murmur;
the torrid day, unlikely a dry desert, gives into a cool breeze:
nothing is heard above and under but the shrilling of a geese!
All the joyous smiles flashed by others were missed by me,
and the craving was stuck into my throat unable to spit it out
and feel the relief I needed to carry me through a painless night;
firebugs aren't pretty butterflies, they glow and suddenly flee!
Categories:
moor, anxiety, environment, peace, sea,
Form: Rhyme
A wintery sun slips under a flat horizon.
No faraway lights to guide me,
just this pitch-dark moor and a racing pulse.
I was thinking too much or not enough,
long walks can turn you into
a cart horse hauling around an unlit mind.
The chill air bites through to fear.
Not knowing where I was or should be,
eyes much too wide to measure distance.
Goat paths crisscross under my boots.
A sheep calls to an invisible flock.
North somewhere, a frigid car sleeps.
People die like this, lost, and blinded
by their own senses. Not I; stumbling on,
I survive to write it down.
Categories:
moor, poetry,
Form: Free verse
In the skull of the scuttle
she comes to me
between the stretches
of a sunken moor
it is not alone
those deep set eyes
shall guide me
keeping safe
from an unwanted storm
Categories:
moor, dedication,
Form: Free verse
in 1978 just trying to survive
newly-released pumas numbering five
attacked livestock in Cornwell
terrorizing remote farms where cattle dwell
labeled murderous beasts of Bodmin Moor
devouring animals, this was no folklore
pets released upon an unknowing countryside
when these cats were hungry, there was no place to hide
Categories:
moor, animal,
Form: Rhyme
Crossing the Pennines, rocky spine
Of the country running North South,
Following the motorway west
From the Humber Estuary Mouth
It always felt cloud bound whatever
The weather or the time of day
Stretching out on either side of
England’s highest motorway.
Saddleworth Moor, place of ill fame
It looks desolate and bare and bleak
And I felt uneasy as I criss crossed it
Each Monday every single week .
It’s a place of pain and torture
Murder, loss and despair
The victims being young children ,
Callously buried out there .
Their graves unmarked
On that unforgiving ground
At least one poor boy
Was never ever found.
The perpetrators taunted parents
By just refusing to tell,
Each enjoying their notoriety from
The safety of their prison cell.
Every Monday as I crossed it
I swear I felt pain and grief
And having crossed on return
Swear I felt a sense of relief.
That already dark bleak place
Earned a such a sinister fame.
Saddleworth Moor entered history
As a sinister and haunted name.
In memory as I crossed over,
And I know this can’t be right,
But it never ever seemed
To be bathed in sunlight.
Categories:
moor, dark, death, sad,
Form: Rhyme
Lily blooms in spring , a design of creator, fragrance to garden
Lilies have sweet smell Flame lily has found in moor, an endangered plant.
Lilies have vase life,
two weeks in my corridor They look fabulous
Categories:
moor, 3rd grade, 5th grade,
Form: Haiku
Lily blooms in spring , a design of creator, fragrance to garden
Lilies have sweet smell Flame lily has found in moor, an endangered plant.
Lilies have vase life,
two weeks in my corridor They look fabulous
Categories:
moor, 3rd grade, 5th grade,
Form: Haiku
Lily blooms in spring , a design of creator, fragrance to garden
Lilies have sweet smell Flame lily has found in moor, an endangered plant.
Lilies have vase life,
two weeks in my corridor They look fabulous
Categories:
moor, 3rd grade, 5th grade,
Form: Haiku
How to prune the heart?
Echoing the rhythm of "Maqomat Ras".
I trembled with childlike syntax.
Monarchs and nobility operated under rules.
Faith versus the truth.
I put all my mental energy into this.
I waddled towards the front door.
I beg, proclaim for nothing, and debris splits.
Where is the sparkling heart?
Rest of high-end dogmatic pegs.
Thrones, lives, Crusaders, and Moors.
I anchored at the heart gate.
A trans-theologia of the urban cosmos.
How to prune the heart?
Categories:
moor, crush, devotion, humanity,
Form: Free verse
Thirteen ladies dancing
By Throckrington Moor’
Each movement stately
Each movement sure.
Stark against the sky
Each single girl,
Feet firmly planted,
Arms all a whirl,
Moves to the wind
In a slow rhythmic way,
Dancing consistently
Whether night or day.
Really only dancing ladies
In my minds inner eye,
Really just wind turbines
Outlined against the sky.
Spare and sparse in their design
To me things of simple beauty
Unceasingly performing
Their appointed duty.
Just by Throckrington Moor
Each one proves it’s worth
Providing clean power to
Help save our wounded Earth.
Each time I pass that moor
Those girls are standing there
Stark in their beauty
In that clear moors air
Categories:
moor, beauty, earth, environment,
Form: Rhyme
Beyond the moor and mountain crest
In valleys green and still
Ten thousand times I've done my best
And all about the idle hill.
When first my way to fair I took
Beneath the blue of day
For willows in the icy brook
In valleys miles away.
When in the moon the long road lies
And down the sighing wind in vain
Spent in star-defeated sighs
And what's to show for all my pain?
Oh, when I was in love with you
To-morrow I shall miss you less
The knot that makes one flesh of two
For a faith the world confessed.
Categories:
moor, feelings, poetry, poets, relationship,
Form: Rhyme
Back and forth on the blustery jut
I rock my brain in its buoyant swell.
The tang of crowberries and storm clouds
sieved through wind and limestone,
sheep’s piss and heather.
Beneath the high rock, rock ravens spiral,
peregrine swoop within a flying sky
turned upside down.
This is my land, this moment
I declare myself
the very image of this twirling world,
magnified, upright,
somewhere between
a wind-blown gnat
and God.
Categories:
moor, poetry,
Form: Free verse
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:
moor, beauty,
Form: I do not know?
A balmy breeze arrives to bring
the subtle scent of flowering ling.
From heather nests the red grouse shout
their rapid cry of chout-chout-chout.
Aloft, is brightest blue and clear
and on hill slopes are grazing deer.
But this moor has an evil mind
and wicked ways it turns to find.
It summons up wildest weather.
Arctic blast and ice together
bring tumbling clouds of cumulus
to clump up as one leaden mass.
Then comes the pelt of sideways rain.
Some seconds on it's calm again.
A balmy breeze arrives to bring
the subtle scent of flowering ling.
Categories:
moor, nature, weather,
Form: Rhyme
somber the shadows ~
mercurial romance
with grave endings
9/18/2019
Categories:
moor, dark,
Form: Senryu
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