Hay Bluff

Hay Bluff

From up here on the Bluff The fields are pocket-handkerchiefs The clouds below paint moving shadows on the land; The Bluff stands like giants shoulders, The heads removed, They rise with perilous slopes even a sheep could tumble on. The

Read more ...

La Reine Blanche

Lunchtime And the fresh moose lipped smack Of cool beer, gently lapping; The clack, clack of the French Cricket pitch of a pool table, Surrounded by bow-legged beeches, And stirrup-worn boots Tired of riding. A breakfast bagette droops wearily Across

Read more ...

The Fall

The Fall

  Autumn was a glut It poured forth its libations upon us. Blackberries like jet Hanging like grapes shining, swelling, Apples varnished with sunshine, Plums in vacant bloom Like a sunset full of colour. Nuts full to rattling. Crab apples

Read more ...