#52weeksofnaturepoetry, Poetry

A Stroll Around Castle Grounds – Week 36 #52weeksofnaturepoetry (Fundraising for RSPB)

Each step brings acrobats

hopping from their low, thin tightropes:

a dazzlement of light-green bodies

shifting soundlessly

into the unplanned arrangement of wildflowers

at the edge of the castle’s grassy moat.

Meadow browns and gatekeepers

rest on knapweed, thistles, oxeye daisies;

invisible from atop the battlements,

mesmerising at ground level.

Pausing for shade, sun having summoned

salt droplets from our skin,

a casual glance at nettles lining the path

reveals white and milk chocolate swirls

clinging all over the leafy stingers;

slimy occupants taking no chances

at being seen.

Further into the surrounding woodland,

jackdaws cackle,

while bronze feathers streak through the sky,

too fast and too distant to identify.

Amongst the branches of a full tree,

this mystery lands, watching –

for threat or prey?

The direction of its gaze is impossible to determine.

Nevertheless, we feel its keenness.

This poem is part of a project I’m doing to raise money for the RSPB, a UK wildlife conservation and protection charity. If you’d like to help, please share this poem to encourage others to take joy in nature, and if you have the time and means to donate, you can do so here. Let’s help keep our wildlife wild!

[Apologies for how these poems are formatted. I do write them in stanzas, but WordPress rarely decides to keep them, no matter how much I argue with it.]

Poetry

Oracle of Seasons

I woke up

and for once I silenced my fears.

I picked up a nugget of sunlight and put it in my top pocket,

patting it

every time the chill from the tunnel

made goosepimples rise on my skin.

It sent a ripple of heat and light through my body

that became as natural as breath.

 

In the distance, I saw you pick up

a nugget of your own

and hide it in the lengths of your hair.

With every casual stride

it glinted, dazzling my eyes.

I wanted to run out of winter, and join you in summer.

 

I didn’t realise you were running towards me.

We met in spring.

Poetry

Sunny Smiles

Buttermilk-stained plates

poke up from the fray

of earthy closeness.

They greet the day,

even if you don’t want to,

and when you do, they’ll be waiting

to gift you with smiles.

 

When the colour fades as the skies turn,

and the flesh huddles down

to protect itself from the oncoming

chill kisses,

you know that their solid will

is a promise

of their return.