The Fisherman

why would you go to sea, she said,
when there’s food to be had in the shops ~
to feel the strength of the swelling waves
and to know the threat of the rocks
and to hear the souls in the unfathomed deep
where the creatures of legend drift and roll
and dream of us in their sleep
and to hear the bell of the solemn buoy
and the voice of the fog horn blow
when it sings to us through the seething mists
in the storm as it bellows and grows
and the wild whipping wind
and the timbers’ groan
and to follow the stars in the dark
and to enter the harbour’s sanctuary
and rejoice to be home at last
where we sit to mend our broken nets
while you sit in your safe place at home

because
in the days
under the sun
it’s another story

My Obsessions

this is a found poem – it comes from my tag cloud on this blog and so it consists of words I use a lot in poems……….

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My Obsessions.

 

Ancient bards and books,
a breeze full of butterflies
above the Celtic hills.
Cities, clouds, the dance of death,
a desert dragons dream,
dreaming dreams with evening eyes
of fateful fantasy and fire
with firelight in the forest garden
where a girl with a haiku
plays a harp and sings
of heart and home and horses.

Imagination kindles lakes,
leaves, land and love,
love, always love,
magic memories of moons
moonlight, morning music.

At night, the oak overshadows
oceans of passion
paths of peace and perfume,
poems of rain and ravens,
the rocks, the river,
roses by the sea.
The sky a silver smile
when the snows come,
then the song of spring,
sunlight and starlight.

Time towers above the trees.
The wings of winter spread again
above a woodland made of words