We all turn out to watch
the river churn and the bridges
froth at the mouth while
above us, angry mountains clench
white teeth, briefly holding back
the storm.
In a brief lull in the torrential rain yesterday, I ventured as far as the village.
Continue reading “break in the clouds”
The cats are twitterpated: lords and ladies
of misrule, they squeal like St Martin’s pigs
in their carnal carnival. Birds’ nests burgeon
in the hedges and, on the early apricot,
a choir of ruby buds swells, ready to burst
into scented song.
More “notes for a poem” than a finished poem, I think. And they were notes taken several years ago.
Continue reading “mardi garden”
People have this unrealistic idea of Spain being semi-desert and sunny the whole time. It isn’t. Where I am, the weather’s turned cold and grey again, and it looks as if the rain will be around for a few days, so I think something is needed to brighten things up.
The only thing in flower in the garden at the moment, other than a few weeds – mostly groundsel and wild marigolds – are violets and crocuses. I took this picture last week.
This was taken from my phone a few days ago. I didn’t expect it to come out well so hadn’t got around to downloading it.
Sadly, it isn’t really clear enough to see how the colours created the illusion of bands of flowers on the mountain.
Rainbow
paints the hillside
heather; blue grass; gorse
Maybe I should have realised it was some kind of warning…
Continue reading “red sky in the morning”
don't confuse the narrator 