Showing posts from September, 2018


I came across this old tree trunk on a walk near my home. It reminded me of the 'night drives' of my childhood. After waiting for my baby brother to see a train pass at the level crossing, we would drive round the lanes spotting night creatures in the headlights before stopping to see the faery tables, a field of old tree stumps where the woodland folk would eat and dance. This poem is a homage to my parents who gave me a lifelong love of all things dancing at the edge of our imagination. 


Abandoned grove reclaimed as hand of man retreats, Garroba limbs twined with over grown olives, silver blades flashing as wood chimes with birdsong.
Old Garroba, hollowed by years of fruitful giving, sweet smell of carob mingles with pine scent, tree perfume wafting on freshening night air.
Sculptured wood cave, cragged bark lined with woven cushion, sharp needles softened as green fades to shades of autumnal decay.
The shy folk hide in holm oak thicket, watching, chuckling as clumsy boots slip on m…


Today I stood in welcome rain, the storm brewing and breaking over the hills.  After months of blue skies we need more rain, the countryside is tinder crisp, the river bed dry stones, the trees and flora thirsting for water. Today was a short burst of refreshing cool and as the season cools and the warm sea holds its heat, we can expect an autumn of heavy rains. I hope they will be good rains, not the destructive force that can affect this area after a hot summer. 
SUNDAY STORMWeeks of summer heat, life adjuststo sun’s rhythm, if not done beforethe fireball starts its westward arc   the toil can wait another day.Heat blasting rock face, geckoshide in creviced shade, green fadesto dusty grey as water leachesfrom cracked, parched earth.I join the creatures, spend daysholed in cool of thick walled cave,come alive at night whenowl swoop and bats flitter.Today the season turned,terracotta chill on bare foot,dawn air fresh like the nipof a dewy, caravan morning.Heat steams from tarmac street…