My Columbine Valentine. For H B-C-M
Posted: February 14, 2021 Filed under: Uncategorized Leave a commentTwo years ago now, we were at sea! The sentiments expressed here though are before, contemporary and beyond. It’s all for you. Thank you. From the heart.
My seaside Valentine
If I could choose
Just one
Moment in time
To take ahead with me
Into unfathomable eternity
Governed by uncertain deity
Then
It would be
Standing Forward
Bedecked by you
( and, in my mind’s eye,
two ghost dogs
standing by)
On our voyage sublime
Watching the watery world slide by
The Pacific, painted by
Glacial blues
Awake
Gelato cream confusion
Melting into the black mirrored swell
As scimitar shaped birds
Slice the crested waves
Balletic marine fencers
Weaving, careening and
En Garde!
Hunting
The ocean’s ceaselessly hungering mouth
Restless, inscrutable, immutable
Breathing, deep water scheming
Its owners have
But scant regard
for our lumbering vessel –
Man made iron muscle –
Outflanked and bested
By shearwater and petrel
Undone by dolphin and iridescent Dorado.
It is as though we were
Tipping over the Equator
Outstripping day and date
Adventuring, ever southwards
Our ship in full spate
Speed baffling knots
Nautical miles
Our beating hearts rate.
Yes!
This would be the moment I’d choose to take.
With
You
and I
Yours and mine
Atlantic,
Caribbean
Pacific
To be specific
My salt spray adored
My seaside companion
My maritime best friend
My own worlds end
My sweetwater , Columbine
Valentine
13/2/19
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Cam ceilog – on “the quickening of the year”
Posted: February 5, 2021 Filed under: Photo, Poem | Tags: Candlemas, Carningli Dairy, Imbolc, Milk, NHS, Vaccines 4 CommentsDylan delivers our milk,
Rich, creamy, butter yellow white
Blessed by mountain angels and Swiss cows
Each mouthful, pure delight.
It is 5:15 pm when he pulls into the yard
And Dinas Head still shimmers with duskling light
Dog days of January,
Murky, misty Saturday night.
“It’s as if the year is taking chicken steps” he says
The longer days are creeping into being.
Cam ceilog.
And he drove on
Much more for him to do.
This week gifted us Candlemas,
“Imbolc” as the Celts would have it.
Crocus, snowdrops, wild primrose
All peeping through the coming grass
Finca scrambling the old stone walls
And two daffodils crowning the cairn
On a windswept, frosted Carningli,
Bracken brown dejected.
Meanwhile,
Others also work long days,
On into the darkness
Injecting fresh hope
Raising possibilities of renewal.
Diminishing at least a portion
Of year long
Gloom and fear.
Salutations to our NHS
Raise a glass to
The milk of human kindness
Toast
Cam ceilog
And the quickening of the year.


