Monday, 18 May 2015

Summer Solstice

In June or July 2013 there was a short spell of quintessential summer weather which made me want to write a Shakespearian sonnet. It turned out rather Shakespearian in content as well as form.


These sixty years and more I’ve gone about   
And gone about, sweating in the world’s show,   
Leeching cash and status like a glib tout, 
Grossly fawning then swapping blow for blow.

But now, body and soul-sore in my fall,    
The many splendours of the sun’s bold creatures
And the white moon’s sky-wide violet pall
Torment me in sessions as my impeachers. 

For the high solstice shuns all grubbing tasks
And lifelong misdirection’s no defence;
The pranking cranesbill flaps its glossy masks
And the cuckoo’s trickled song drenches sense:

Too late, indentures in this great assay I’ve had to prove,    
For now my summer’s lease is done and I must soon remove.

© July 2013

Saturday, 9 May 2015

Months: Lyrics: May

The poems for March and April in this series were posted on 14 March and 13 April 2015.
   Note: "Noah's splash" in the first stanza is a reference to the old adage "ash before oak we shall have a soak, oak before ash we shall have a splash." I wrote a poem about it - 'Adage' posted on 31 March 2012.
   Stare, throstle and wind-fanner are traditional names for the starling, thrush and kestrel.


The trees are leaved; even the ash
Its many-fingered crown has dressed;    
      Noah’s splash
Must bide a year. With tipsy cheer  
The lopside stare at the bank’s crest     
      Whistles a leer.      

Crazyhead oak with fat-leaf veils
Enswathes itself, aglim with sun;    
      In shadows, snails
Aboard the nettles’ spiteful bristles, 
Thrush-grabbed are cracked to death among 
      The throstle jostled thistles.  

The splay-pined larch drops seed from cones
To fruit in the earth’s spicy pall;    
      With tortured bones,
Christ ascended in His blood’s banner,
Hovers; will He in judgement fall      
      Like the wind-fanner?

© May 2014