healingwords: poetry for the soul

The morning air was damp and chill and as I stepped on the roof terrace the cloud started to form and pour over the 'Carrascal', still looking grey in the shadows.  I love this tumbling cloud, although my breathing does not respond well to the humid air.  © 2020 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved.  

Whilst my mind is on this afternoon's election meeting my eye is drawn to the mountain I have spent so many years helping to protect. This view is the symbol of our village, so many of us love and respect the beauty of our surroundings, I feel honoured to have played a small part in its story.  Here is a short poem, written as the wind howls up the valley and the cloud tops the mountain.  WHIPPING CLOUD Wind whipping, clothes dancing a fandango, fighting pegs to fly free over the roof tops, whistling through chimney pots, whoosh singing round the valley as clouds puff and pour over the ‘Carrescal’ like bubbling froth steaming from a witch’s brew. © 2019 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved.