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Alison Douglas Poem
Charcoal grey, silver grey, shading to white,
Changing and shifting,
Pewter grey, ashy grey, darkness then light,
Trailing and lifting.
A quiet avalanche of melting clouds
In horizontal fall,
Covering distant hill tops like a shroud
Or funeral pall.
Shapes form, reform, then float away
In careful counterpoise,
Then balance, hover, shift and sway,
There is no noise.
A sudden change, the wind picks up,
Disorder in the sky,
Which way to go at first unclear,
Then the clouds begin to fly.
Across the vast and open prairie skies
The clouds stampede,
Driven by wayward winds they fall and rise
At breakneck speed.
Such confidence we can never realise.
Here on the ground we hesitate and stumble.
They are in their element.
Copyright © Alison Douglas | Year Posted 2019
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Alison Douglas Poem
Waking at night, suddenly,
Silence and darkness,
Save the whisper of the wind
And a faint glow of orange light.
The familiar clutch of fear,
Always there.
But fear of what?
The unknown?
Or the known certainty that the end will come,
Gradually or suddenly,
Peacefully or brutally,
Inevitably.
Our lives are but a tiny indentation,
Then the water closes over.
No sign, no mark, no trace,
Of a life half-lived,
Of family and friends half loved.
Of chances not taken.
Copyright © Alison Douglas | Year Posted 2018
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Alison Douglas Poem
Defiant stand the distant trees,
Their battle colours red and gold,
Their enemy the cruel wind,
Sends vicious gusts of piercing cold.
A row of beech trees form a shield,
Their sword-like branches held on high,
Their stance is resolute and strong,
"Fight to the end", their fearsome cry.
Their battle standards tattered now,
This conflict lost, defeat is near,
The ending never was in doubt,
What happens next is all too clear.
So rage against these winter storms,
Defy the cold, deny the end,
Our instinct is survive and fight
And never, never bend.
Copyright © Alison Douglas | Year Posted 2018
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Alison Douglas Poem
She does not see me at first
An anxious set to her face
Worry in those soft brown eyes.
Yet she continues
Climbing up the steep steps.
She does not hesitate,
She is resolute,
Despite fearing the worst.
A tiny figure in her pink jacket,
Unbuttoned of course,
School bag nearly as big as she is,
Her hair escaping from the velvet band.
Then she sees me.
And I am rewarded with that smile.
She quickens her steps.
Confident now, happy now.
We hug.
I give her confidence,
She brings me joy.
Copyright © Alison Douglas | Year Posted 2021
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Alison Douglas Poem
Our Garden
In my mind’s eye,
I see you still,
Standing still in our garden,
Motionless,
Deep in thought.
So what were you thinking?
The seeds we planted together,
Grew strong,
We tended them,
Fed and watered them,
Gave them shelter and support.
We watched anxiously.
Now they are strong, gloriously confident,
They no longer need our tender loving care.
The scarlet poppies, petals as fragile as crepe paper,
Grow miraculously strong on delicate stems.
The marigolds, like a cluster of brilliant suns,
Know their power.
The trailing lobelias explore exuberantly
And will not be contained.
The seed of our love we also planted together,
Tended with the same loving care and understanding,
And at first a willingness to forgive.
But in time, as it grew, it too needed protection,
From sudden tempests, sudden frosts,
And tears that felt like rain.
Desperately we provided support and protection,
But it was never enough.
The seed which at first had grown so joyfully,
Now withered
And died.
Copyright © Alison Douglas | Year Posted 2023
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Alison Douglas Poem
WILD
At the foot of my garden,
Where nobody goes
There are foxgloves and brambles,
And a pink rambling rose.
There are nettles so tall,
They strive for the sky,
Ivies and grasses,
Sprawling near by.
Buttercups and daisies,
A scattering of clover,
Mosses and meadow sweet,
Trying to take over.
Willow herb, lady’s mantle,
A riot of greens,
Sweet smelling honeysuckle,
A desire to be seen.
Their aim is survival,
So they turn to the sun,
Or seek the damp shade,
Where deep shadows run.
They fight for the light,
And for freedom to roam,
To find their own space,
A place to call home.
Next door is a garden,
So different from mine,
Neat rows of dahlias,
In a straight line.
Fixed to the spot,
No freedom to move,
To find their own joy,
In a place that they love.
A chance to explore,
And play like a child,
To follow our dreams,
And live free and wild.
Copyright © Alison Douglas | Year Posted 2024
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Alison Douglas Poem
The darkest of mornings,
Light creeping slowly, very slowly,
Round the edges of my world,
As the day begins.
All day a half light struggles to make an impact
But loses the battle
And dusk takes over far too soon,
And this shortest of days
Descends into darkness.
This day has been a study in greys and black,
Skies dark, moods black, thoughts gloomy
How much longer?
And then in the evening,
A careful judgement of when to draw the curtains
And lower the blinds
A longing to shut out the dark
But a reluctance to admit the light has finally gone.
And so I turn to those pretenders,
Low lights and candlelight
Which mimic the sun
And bring some comfort and relief.
I am glad I know the light will come back,
That the light will always comes back,
Imperceptibly, longed for and waited for,
And so I close the curtains later every day
And hope - no I believe.
Copyright © Alison Douglas | Year Posted 2025
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Alison Douglas Poem
From starry skies the snowflakes drift,
Each one unique cold winter’s gift,
Shaken from a starry sky,
They float, they swirl and then they fly
To land on branches that glitter with frost.
Weightless as phantoms, as white as ghosts
Spectral in the gathering gloom
Of an early winter afternoon,
As delicate as lace they melt too soon,
Their lives like ours are brief.
Copyright © Alison Douglas | Year Posted 2024
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Alison Douglas Poem
SEA GLASS
Along the sands so damp and brown,
A piece of sea glass, smooth and round,
A jewel, a gem, a precious stone,
Gifted by tides it lies alone.
A haven; safe after years at sea,
Tumbling, diving then floating free,
Taken by tides and shaken by storms,
Tossed back and forth until transformed
From a shard of glass, a broken piece
Discarded, unwanted but now released
From turbulent depths to a place of peace,
Frosted and gleaming in the light.
An achievement to reach, at last, dry land.
Such a perilous journey from sand to sand.
Copyright © Alison Douglas | Year Posted 2024
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Alison Douglas Poem
Unexpectedly I grew old.
Yesterday I was seventeen
With all my hopes and silly dreams.
I was often told,
Do not grow old,
Old age is for the very brave.
But I didn’t listen, hadn’t a care,
Chose to ignore the odd grey hair,
Chose not to believe what harsh sunlight revealed,
Preferring candlelight and what it concealed.
Found ways to excuse the much slower pace,
Getting through life was never a race,
Found missing items in the oddest of places
And laughed off the memory lapses.
Then waking one night to silence and darkness
I knew it was time to confess,
I had wasted my life, had not taken chances
Had not taken part in life’s myriad dances,
Never seized the moment, never chose to dare,
Never waltzed through life with hardly a care.
And now I knew I could no longer ignore
What the rest of my life had in store:
A time to reflect,
A time of regret,
With only myself to blame.
Copyright © Alison Douglas | Year Posted 2024
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