Tuesday 23 April 2013


As splash is bracing, so's the daffodil's yellow;
Salt-sharp, and waxy to the touch,
First lighthouse loom, that longed-for landfall after much
Wandering winter oceans.

Later, mellow on the Bristol train, my holdall stuffed
With Coptic crosses from Djibouti, buddhas from Colombo,
I watch the Wylye valley's willows roll
Slowly to the breeze's brush;
The roebuck stilled mid-field to watch our passing

And, on the bare bank, at last is such
A spray of primrose, petal pool of cream,
As glows against the stormcloud massing
Over the Plain, moment of grace

Warm as this sun now on my face,
Through the open window where I lean
To hear the evening-drowsy blackbird's song;
"Made it, though. Made it through another one."


  1. That 'salt-sharp' line to describe colour together with this mellow yellow poem had a strange effect on me. It has actually made my mouth water (sorry, weird).

  2. It works for me, too, to evoke that winter sea feeling. On the other hand, I now want a bacon butty. Good plan!

  3. Dru, I have no idea what a bacon butty is, but my mouth is now watering too!! Must be genetic. LOL

    Made it through. Finally