Pembrokeshire – the first few days of February 2015

Hush!

The moon, a fat yellow cheese,

gobbles the duskling skyline above Morfa Head.

Later, silver tongued and stealthy

it lights the path for a night time wander

as three dogs and I

ghost along the lanes

badgered, foxed, rabbit worn, and,

turning for home and the deep bliss of the warm bed,

far out on the horizon

a ships light splits sea from sky

and hangs, suspended and watchful.

Yesterday

grey rocks grinned upon the hillsides

spiked, toothsome,

scarring the mountain, snow bleached and soft pillowed.

Today, we walked below Carningli

warmed by thin winter sun

though the wind, when able,

did not hesitate to cut a cruel song,

the grass frost blasted and resentful.

Hush!

A horse nickered,

dogs cavorted and capered,

occasionally raising a sceptical ear to the distant cries of long lost cousins.

Jet planes droned above

buzzing the sea shadowed sky.

Across the valley,

a ragged stone wall crooked a finger,

beckoning, cajoling

“walk on, follow me”.

The hills, plumped and greened,

sun plumed, farm groomed,

sweet air steamed,

all, carelessly platformed

nature framed,

snapshot and scattered

Pembrokeshire, adrift,

ship shaped and sand blasted,

ever kind

to my mind’s eye.

5/2/15

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