 From the barren hedge, your bloom is first.
Abundant white flowers, from bud they soon burst. So ahead of the game, it’s apparently clear. A pioneer of the spring, a sight we hold dear. Like snow upon bush, tree branch and limb. Casting out winter, the brightness undimmed. For it is you that we look to, in knowing the way. As month passes month, and night becomes day Your perches house dunnock, and that of their kin. Your barbs protect chicks, of blackbird, robin. The green fire is coming, but you are the leader. Leaves unfurl upwards, but not those of cedar. Blue skies are present now, the air is so crisp. Clarity of direction, no words carry lisp. For you are the forerunner, of those that come next. The flowers of the woodland, as nature has sex. To you we are glad, of bringing us peace. Food will be plentiful, an autumn feast. But let’s not forget summer, of temperature hot. Where you blend in background, and the harvest is got. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2020 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below.
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 There is a silence and a stillness, to this place I love to be.
Where the simplest trickle of the water, brings a sense of peace to me. I've descended the steep hillside, like a little mountain goat. To a secluded cove, dear to me, only accessible by boat. I'm now in rapture, warm and naked, close to my beloved sea. Where the sun and cloud have separated, to leave sky blue, totally free. A breeze comes to caress me, and every follicle of feeling. Where an energy is present, bringing any amount of healing. There's rock pippets here, grasshoppers, emerald green beetles. Cathedrals of stone, jagged edges, very tall dark steeples. There's a majesty in the calmness, in the gentleness and karma. Whatever hour you are present here, each one equivalent to dhama. Kingfishers have been seen here, wooly sheep, and racing pigeon. Bringing messages from afar, great mystery by the legion. Two ravens croak above, black eagles of the divine. My heart begins to soar, my spirit starts to shine. I've written many a word here, letters, poems and true prose. I've had many a thought here, of dreams I do propose. A skinny dip is often called for, a plunge into the cerulean deep. Where silk wraps all around me, sending me off to a dreamy sleep. Kestrels hover on an updraft, eyes focussed on next prey. I'm happy, I'm in clover, on this very special day. Time to reflect and mull things over, bringing insight and pure wisdom. This is the place I call home, where there is true love and more freedom. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2020 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below. |
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