autumn (2)


The Blackberry redux

The wild vine binds and twines

scrambling here, rambling there


burying hills

surrounding trees


upon some gating

like porcupine quills


Fairy Bloom


Cat Fur

My trouser cuffs are vaugely blurry

perhaps because they are so furry

my shoes are looking rather shaggy

and so much fluff makes my sweaters baggy

my hat it seems is all abristle

resembling a battered thistle

the sofas are all quite hirsute

never mind my beleagured suit

all this hair is not from me

my cat is shedding don’t you see


The Sword in the Tree

tree sword

Night Gathers

Night slips in on soft feet, but not silently. You can hear the jays arguing over the best bedding spots and a few determined frogs still laying claim to their territory before it gets too cold. The insects have largely abandoned the autumn woods but one can hear a gaggle of geese gabbling their way to the ground just beyond the brow of the hill. The yellow leaves of the cherry stand out against the gathering dusk while the brown leaves of the oak blend in. In a week or two there won’t be enough leaves on either to amount to a good fire. Traffic has begun to make that low, slow, going home purr, it’s lights becoming brighter with each passing moment as the grey skies fades quietly into black. A slight mist begins to fall and for an instant all of the trees on the horizon stand out in stark relief before the gloom swallows them utterly. An owl hoots and the jays cease their squabbles abruptly. Somehow it has segued into full dark without my noticing. The mist is making my sweatshirt heavy and turning my once cheerful fire into a smoking heap. I think I shall retreat indoors and allow the autumn night to claim this hill.

Lavender Spider


Aching Insomniac

It is early, and I ache

And I think that I will make

A resolution

To find a solution

For this late night turbulance

That keeps me awake


Dahlia Diameter


The Embers

the heat is still there, a shimmering glow

but the flame is not as high nor as hungry

yet a banked fire still burns

passion’s white heat in abayance

conserving it’s finite fuel

but a banked fire still burns

it only takes one leaping spark

one smouldering obsession,

for a banked fire still burns

some small scrap of fuel may ignite

a conflageration that burns down the house

yes a banked fire still burns

so tread carefully near the hearth

be wary of the fuel you add

because a banked fire still burns

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