Monday, September 30, 2024

After a walk to the white chalk horse at Uffington, Brian was inspired to write 'Larks Above the Mist'.  A long poem based on the Celtic goddess Epona.  She was the horse goddess of fertility and nurturing; epos being the proto-celtic word for horse. Her veneration from Western Europe spread to Britain, and adopted by the cavalry legions enjoyed a festival in her honour on December 18th in Rome. The Uffington white horse has been dated to around 1400 BCE. Sally

Larks above the Mist (part 1)


Epona, mother of the grain

Apple maker, source of rain;

Sanctify our homes today.


              ...... and our mid-summer joy

Was quieter for the loss, even though we'd known

His life would not last out another year.

As his eldest, I must take his axe

Along the ridge, down to the Isis pools,

Where I will break and drown it, giving thanks

To the goddess of our hearth and herds.

But summer grants scarce time for journeying

When harvest and dropped foals demand our all,

The barley cut, the apples picked and juiced

For winter bread and Samhain's winter wine.


Epona, Guardian of the dead,

Succour those whom you have led;

Sanctify our lives today.


A steerhorn calls beyond the palisade

Summoning the stallion of the sun

To flood the autumn warmth the valley floor

Where night-guards stretch, pick up their shields and spears,

And sidle through the softly opening gates

Towards their huts, cold meat and morning mead.


Brian Hick October 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 30.9.24


Thursday, September 26, 2024

 1221


Tolerant? Of course we want to be

Open to all views, diverse opinions,

Even at the times we disagree.

But should we tolerate the racist faction,

The rabble-rousing, hate-mongers set free

To vilify and fulminate reaction

Against our own hard-won society?

Better to be true in word and action

Yet whip the vice which hates to see us free.


Brian Hick October 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 26.9.24

Tuesday, September 24, 2024

 1220


Quo vadis? Why am I so unsure -

Given sixty years of cogitation -

Of anything that could be deemed secure?

Quo vadis?

It's not as if the current situation

Is any different from the times before

But youth expects some sort of explanation,

If not Nirvana, then at least a core

Of certainty in age, when long reflection

Should answer all the questions posed before.

Quo vadis ?


Brian Hick October 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 24.9.24

Thursday, September 19, 2024

 1219


Sun and wind and sea


Autumnal mists linger, where the trees

Silhouette, before the morning sun

Warms away the grey expanse to ease

Its daily resurrection.

Breakers dash each other to the shore

Spilling white foamed flecks along the strand

Where solitary walkers risk the raw

North-eastern as it reaches land.

Sun and wind and sea move as they must

Indifferent to the lives of you and me

Who, before we're rendered back to dust,

Would make some sense of what we see.

But sun and wind and sea move on

And, just as quickly, we are gone.


Brian Hick October 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 19.9.24

Tuesday, September 17, 2024

 1218


              91


It was a good day


The five of us


A garden we'd

Not visited before


Autumnal warmth

A clear sky


Braised rabbit and

A fresh Rosé

A comfortable café


A Chinese bush

Flowering for the first time

In eighty years especially for us


So why is this

So difficult to write?


Brian Hick October 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 17.9.24


Thursday, September 12, 2024

 1217


27 9 12


Leicester Square, newly

Chromed, awash with jets

Rainbowing Shakespeare.


Nelson breathing above

His square, open again to

Pigeons and tourists.


Nice to have London

Back to normal, now that the

Olympics have finally gone.


No one-eyed mascots

No volunteers

And not

A hint

Of pink.


Brian Hick 27.September 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 12.September.2024

Tuesday, September 10, 2024

 1216

                    The rain

     Could not make up its mind

           One second drizzle

           The next a deluge

                    All day

                  Non-stop

            From nine o'clock

                Till after five

                     Then

The brightest, crispest, deepest

       Most radiant rainbow

          I have ever seen

      Just as You promised.


Brian Hick September 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 10.9.24

Friday, September 6, 2024

 1215


Romney Marsh


A heron skims the dyke

Flapping toward the unseen sea


Crunching stubble awakes

The grounded larks


A coin marked with Vespasian's head

Found in a field the Saxon's drained


Sheep munch softly

Without a looker

Or care for the gourmet

Who waits

Patiently

For sea-salted chops


Elder and black-berry

Thicken the lanes

Hindering our way

With purpled sweetness


Brian Hick October 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 6.9.24


Tuesday, September 3, 2024

 1214

after seeing Timon of Athens

Of course I am the centre of the world

And as I grow I let my family slave,

Meeting my every need, letting life unfurl,

Unconcerned by problems they might have.


Advancing years do little to persuade

My self-absorption that the world might be

Indifferent to what I have achieved

And knew would last into eternity.


But now I face the riot of mankind;

So many people, so many unknown faces,

All unconcerned for anything except

The grand design to flaunt their airs and graces.


Brian Hick September 2012

©Sally Hick 3.9.24