Tag Archives: rurality

Invoking the priestess…

…or joining the blue-rinse set?

In response to Eugi’s weekly prompt “mystical“:  

 

Tomorrow
the unwanted,
but unavoidable,
journey must occur.

The green around me
and the blue above me
will be left behind for
the five days of
concrete-grey obeisance
that I must make.

So tonight I trace blue
– sky, water –
and green
– leaves, trees –
into my hair
as an invocation,
as an insignia
of otherness.

In front of the mirror,
the streaks of blue and green
replacing the white within the brown,
I wonder –
is this mystical
or merely misguided?

Am I invoking the priestess
or joining the blue-rinse set?

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fledgling II: kookaburra

For weeks they have circled the clearing,
pausing at each compass point
to claim their territory with a raucous laugh,
defining its borders with their mirth.

Now with a hoarse uncertain chuckle –
soft grace notes dropped into their song –
their duet has become a trio,
and their joyous laughter fills the forest.

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night songs

In response to Eugi’s weekly prompt, “Cosmos“:

The fence hums, the frogs sing
and across the hills
an owl calls for company –
and is answered.

My breath merges with the wind
softly stirring the leaves,
and my feet provide a back-beat
as I climb the hill –

to where the milk in the sky flows,
a bright river above me,
pulling me upwards,
to drown in its silent symphony.

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When autumn leaves

In response to Eugi’s weekly prompt, “autumn leaves”:

When autumn leaves, she leaves behind
forgotten treasure for us to find:
sweet chestnuts, spiky as a curse,
bright windfalls for this year’s preserves.
Then we fill our jars with bright sunlight
to see us through dark winter nights.

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Sunday afternoon ha’ sonnet

Washed in birdsong Continue reading

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a stub in the night

Drawn from the depths of sleep
by a plaintive call, Continue reading

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yet more Sunday morning ha’ sonnets

The dawn chorus begins…

Magpie song flows
a clear, bright stream Continue reading

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once upon a summer gloaming…

In response to Eugi’s weekly prompt, fairy, a poem about flying ants – which are very fey, in their own way. They swarm one night a year in late summer, usually after rain, and every year they catch me by surprise: 

Once upon a summer gloaming
a cloud of fey-folk filled the air. Continue reading

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even more Sunday morning ha’ sonnets

There’s a pig at the door Continue reading

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my creek runneth over

Rain, rain came to stay,20200809_091004
no-one’s going out today.
The creek’s too high,
to pass on by,
so we’ll all stay
at home. Hooray!

 

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120mm in about 36 hours! I hope there’s more so I don’t have to go anywhere tomorrow either. I love having a good excuse to just stay home and potter around. (Thank you YV council for being completely incapable of building an adequate bridge.) And every tank except the main house tank is now full, and that’s at 3/4 for the first time in a couple of years. And the dam is overflowing again…   

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