Anniversary Poem

(In response to RSThomas' poem 'Anniversary')

This mystic, lovely land
has bid us welcome,
washed-up,
bleached as driftwood
upon its stranger shores

We breathe
its salty, fern-drenched air,
and wash our tired eyes
in its gentling rain,
grateful for the sweet colours
drifting down its valleys
to the sea

We sleep enfolded,
our older bodies familiar
as breath and bone
and, morning-waking,
smile around each other
in the kitchen

'The one child' is grown,
seeking his own
hungry dragons,
elsewhere across th' unfolding universe

Enough...
It is as it is.

'Come friendly bombs...'

Please don't bomb Devizes -
There's hearts of different sizes
there, like everywhere..
And if you bomb without a care,
You might
delete a wheat and spare a tare!

Orchard Welcome

Ginger tea and figs,
meadowsweet and chamomile-
conversations smile

Travels with 'Hilda'

This week I have driven a looong round-about route to meet family in my home-town of Devizes and then home to Aber via a lovely yurt-friend in deepest Herefordshire.

My increasing age means my long and short sight will no longer accomodate both driving and looking at maps or instructions. So I'm a prime candidate for sat-nav and with great trepidation I set off plugged-in to my mobile version in action...

We get on all right, Hilda and I and at least she is someone to talk to when the dog has been left at home..

BUT she sulked in silence all the way south through Wales yesterday and only deigned to help out when we were nearly at Newport and she realised I actually meant it when I said we were leaving Wales for a couple of days...

Furthermore I do honestly believe Hilda was having a laugh at my expense when we were bowling along a single-track road called something like Jake's Ditch this afternoon, and expected to hear a cackle of mirth when we met a tractor coming the other way....

To be honest we met nothing and I have to admit this one was probably my mistake. I swear I detected a catch in Hilda's voice and a sigh of relief when she was finally able to direct me to 'turn left onto the A44'

'Hilda' you ask? Ah...Rumpole of the Bailey ;-)