Among the Tree Roots

Vincent Van Gogh ~ Study of a Tree

A few leaves
still fall
in the late
November sun
spilling
from the cirrus wings
of morning

like old ghosts
awakened,
summoned from the darkness
and firelight,
or from the moon
whose gentle beam

shines down on us
between the twilights
and silver dawn.

A lullaby of solitude
is carried in the cry
of curlew and kittiwake,
and reaches down
among the tree roots

where once I slept
and dreamt of this.

 

 

Copyright 2012 Louise Hastings

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Old Wind by Darren Hawbrook

Image Credit: 123RF.com

Old wind,
I have known you
but briefly.
From a light sleep
you wake me,
face pressed against my window
like an errant child
without a friend.

You ride the turbulence
in a world full of secrets;
The Confidant to love and death;
blowing kisses of eternal promise
while gathering up last breaths.

Some days you wander
through cinammon streets,
speak in hermit tongue,
an odour of stale whiskey and smoke
on your weary exhalations.

Other times, your playful sprite
chases butterflies
through lily-white glades,
lifts kites aloft with childlike hope
and stirs the autumn leaves.

I hear your fitful
zephyr song
on the wind-chimes in the yard.
Old wind,
I run with you tonight –
if from a light sleep
you wake me.

I am a writer and musician from Lincoln, England, turning my hand to most types of writing. I’ve written poems, songs, short fiction and scripts (including a pantomime), and have reached 70,000 words towards my first serious novel. In many ways, I am influenced by nature and the elemental factors that help to forge the creative landscapes of the mind. I love reading the many wonderful poets who share their work on Word Press, and it is thanks to them that I have dug out my old poems and dusted them off in order to post on my blog at www.awildernesswithin.wordpress.com.  Old Wind is a new poem, inspired by the teasing wind that rattled through the office windows while stuck on my 9 til 5! Louise was one of the first poets (and certainly one of the best) that I came across on Word Press, and I am honoured that she has agreed to host one of my pieces on her site.

One Summer (in England)

Copyright: James Rainsford, Used with Permission

A sudden rainbow across heavy skies
brings rare sunshine and fleeting light on water.
I throw off the winter cold and bare pale skin
to the sun, paint myself anew with colours
fresh and bright. The days go by
like a smile on an empty face
and I ripen in the sunshine
beneath an oozing, soft green light,
tangling serotonin in my hair,
lemon-blossom from the meadow at my feet.
But a shadow drags behind me
whenever the weather breaks.
Steady rain lashes at the window,
splashes city parks and dead end streets,
trickles down my neck and pools around my wrists.
As the darkness spreads there’s not much of me left.
I run towards the fragile, summer sun.

 

 

©2012 Louise Hastings

Written for the wonderful prompt at dVersepoets Poetics ~ Patterns, Pictures and Poems hosted by James Rainsford

Secret gardens

‘Artspiration’ by Bonnie of Original Art Studio

There is a secret
hidden in the garden
like a giant tree,
alive
its roots twisting deep
into moist unsettled earth.
I float away
under its cool shade,
as his eyes look right through me,
startling green.
My wings
beat against his breath,
the arc of a branch
bending, curled around
his body
as I touch the sky,
sinking deeper….

until

it  swallows us both.

 

by Louise

Alfresco

‘Alfresco’ painted by Alison Jardine

Between the water and the sky
lies all of nature wondrous wild.
The bird that skyward tries to fly,
while heaven kissed the wayward child.
Love’s endless minutes roll on by,
as morning sun shone bright and smiled.
Not quite a waking truth, a dream,
this silence blessed down by the stream.

The sea is deep, the moon is blind
as fairies wake you with a kiss,
sapphire mysteries for you to find,
amethyst stones, forbidden bliss.
A stream of light shines from behind,
your choice to live, what life is this?
Exquisite magic, tastes of wine,
whispered secrets, limbs entwined.

by Louise

Written for One stop poetry ~ Friday poetically by Brian Miller