Change of season

The seasons are definitely changing here in the UK. Despite some lovely sunny days it’s certainly not summer any longer and the crisp misty mornings are not the only give away. Change is visible all around in the trees and hedgerows.

This is a young Shieldbug sitting on a bramble leaf. I love how the colour in the leaf is reflected in the Shieldbug with his red eyes.

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Some of the blackberries that haven’t been eaten by birds (or people) have started to reach the unattractive dried-up stage. But the Shieldbugs don’t mind and are making the most of them.

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The leaves in my Beech tree are started to turn. Yellows with a hint of orange amongst the green.

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Some have already fallen:

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And here’s another creature enjoying shrivelled-up blackberries – this Speckled Wood butterfly is also unfazed by their less than attractive appearance.

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And the earth turns

seasons come
seasons go

step forth into the dark
hold fast to hope
life will return
in the morning

so it was

and so it shall be

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Change.”

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shuffling

subtly (?) shuffling blogs about
I settle on one
back in my home
in the press of words
and you are all here
one hopes
thank you
my lovelies

cough

at night it comes
steals sleep from me
and wracks my body’s
weary bones
and every cough
brings stabs of pain
in muscles strained
by repetition
’til here I sit
in break from work
head throbbing
back twinging
day-dreaming of my bed
and wishing
to float away
on peaceful clouds
and rest a while
regain my strength
and try again
tomorrow

snowball

the snowball
that is me unravelling
rolls downhill
growing in size
from one small thing
the world starts to spin
faster and wilder
tumbling and falling
’til I crash in your arms
squeaky voice tears
soaking your shirt
and hold on tight
to your love

drum beat

the drum beat
pulses through my veins
louder than my blood
throbbing
building
from gentle heartbeat
to crashing crescendo
and my body moves
automatically
responding
from a place deep within
responding
to the irresistible rhythm
and I dance
eyes closed
lost in the moment
of bliss

morning moon

1-moonthe morning moon hangs low
over the treetops
like a ripe fruit
watching over the hills
calm and serene

across the valley
the sun stretches and yawns
sends sunbeams bouncing off clouds
grabbing attention
dazzling eyes

the morning moon rests
wide smiling face relaxed
soft and gently glowing
patiently biding time
til darkness falls again

from those who get a little blue


it will pass

             we know

but

     while it holds us there
           crushed in the dark
     
     while it sucks away
           all our confidence

     while it allows
           life to overwhelm us

excuse us
       if we don't smile

excuse us
       if we moan and groan
                 and float about like
                           miserable rain clouds

we do know
          how lucky we are
we do know
          we are loved
we do know
          we are not as worthless as we think
we
   do
      know

but we can't feel it
                     right now

poets in love

words touched words
ere fingertips
reached across the kismet
darkness seen
exposed and loved
though eyes had not met yet

souls entwined
with letters scribed
on each tangled tendril
hearts embraced
as stanzas wrapped
pulses soothed and tranquil

now combined
both word and deed
love poems penned on skin
in our eyes
with lover’s gaze
the message plain within

ink flows through
these fated veins
stains our home with colour
you and I
for ever more
a poetic wonder

For those new to my story, this is auto-biographical – Bruce & I met online via our poetry blogs, fell in love by words, and now live together very happily

human geography

come, love
trace my contour lines
traverse hills and valleys
scale the highest peaks
and the lowest depths
taste my topography

the panic

the
first time
was when I saw
that photograph
that he said
wasn’t what it
looked like
that was the
first time
that it ripped
through me
this panic
unwordable
fear

he lied
it was exactly
what it looked like

and he broke me
and still I suffer

Dream?

woke up in a haze
a dream of you beside me
with tender loving

best part of the dream
the unexpected plot twist
it was really true

Spring in October

I’ve been through the dying days of autumn
where all was drying, cracking, ending
I’ve been through the silent days of winter
where all was empty, frozen, lonely
This feels like spring despite October
written on the changing leaves
Springtime came, false start at first
with storms and sudden icy blasts of lies
But that early opening set the scene
for truth, emerging buds like crocus flowers
And as the soft earth warms, we stretch our stems
towards each other, seeking light that shines
in glorious newness of our season in the sun