Spring foiled again by cold air
North westerly breeze unfair
Will the plants survive today?
Red ripe tomatoes soon come our way?
Contest: LIND30 Rhyme
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Date: 04/09/2022
northerly breeze lay
heavy frost glistens in sunlight....
death
Probably Haiku and Senryu mixed
northerly March wind
rocks truck, whips American flag....
dandelions bloom
~
A feather falls,
floating on this cool autumn breeze
aimlessly spinning
until it lands at my feet
I look up and see two silhouettes
against an azure backdrop
happily flying towards the south,
taking my thoughts north
Where winter has embraced the landscape
in fresh lavender roses ‘neath a crystalline frost
glistening on pine tree branches,
tickling fields once green
And I smile knowing
in this chilly place of blue moons
and frigid sunrises
waits my warmth - and it is you
~
northerly blowing
tumbling red, yellow and orange
signals summer’s end
Gritted pavements chew neath worn sodden soles
Dissipating cardboard inlaid repairs
Gravel chews at my thrice darned old socks
Absorbing trudged blisters weeping despair
This old northerly town of sepia and grey
Drains unborn hope from lowered blank eyes
As winter chills with her misted damp breath
Cobbled streets lay neath smog’s opaque disguise
Worn cobbles pierce thinly veiled tarmac refurb’
Painting generations of Lowry bald souls
The hoop and the football once soul of the streets
Replaced by generations that queue for their dole
Chiselled grey faces reminisce past Jarrow march
Regional poverty plants roots in the north
Black and white photos of stretched terraced slums
Slip through time and with modern streets morph
Factories boarded, silhouettes stripped of their roofs
Deliberate was felt this themed disrepair
Shadows of hope eroded within misted times grey
Monotony a communities subconscious despair
Yet this is my home, still my dirty old town
Whining milk carts, belched thick diesel fumes
The scented soot coughed from open slack fires
Cradles and frames this, my northerly womb
The northerly wind brought the odd uncertainty
And the cold gust of unknown, forthcoming changes.
The only right way was very hazy and dusty;
I couldn’t find the suitable roads and bridges.
A winged thoroughbred appeared in the dark sky,
And snorted friendly nearby my tilted head.
I couldn’t mount it because its back was too high,
That horse was stunning though its snow-white wings bled.
The northerly wind blew off drapes at a window,
And an unborn child waved to me from the inside,
But the jealous mother buried it in a pillow.
I stood there lonely and dreamed to vanish or hide.
The air thickened for the black clouds and the dust,
I am sure my chances wait for me far away;
Just behind the horizon. I’ll find them – it’s a must.
The wind is to bring a more favorable day...