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16 Nov 2013

Sunrise when I set out on the train;

Sunset, as I'm coming home again.

Tonbridge, bathed in apricot and mist

Rising from the lakes where kayaks drift.

Skirting shadowed woodlands, the full moon

Lifts itself above the evening's gloom,

Until, as day's bright colours drain away

A single star proclaims the end of day.

A street-light breaks the darkness as it cuts

Across fields, low hedges and the ruts

Deep ploughed and harrowed, where the winter grains,

Long silent days, deep frosts and freezing rains

Will run, unnoticed until unseen roots

Proclaim the Spring in prodigal green shoots.

Brian Hick November 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 29.11.24

 1055

11 11 11

Twenty five strangers, avoiding contact

Stand

Faces towards the war memorial

Waiting

Not quite sure when to begin.

The traffic rumbles across the park.

No gun here, no sudden maroon

To mark the silence.

A veteran to my left

Stands to attention.

His colleague, with walking stick,

Moves slowly forward till he stands, head bowed,

Before the tiny poppied cross.

We wait - as we have always waited.

No sign is given

But some people start to leave;

As they go, a gentle voice proclaims

Familiar words.

I stop, head bowed,

And I am glad.

Brian Hick 11.11.11

©copyright Sally Hick 11.12.23

 861

November Snow Fall (2010)

Ten inches fell last night and more to come they say

(And how I warm to keeping it in inches, by the way)

So no more school for us this week, its out into the hills

On plastic bags and old tea trays to squeel away the thrills

Of unexpected moments, stolen from the working week

And oh the joys of silence as the drivers cannot reap

Vengeance every waking minute with scowls and obscene words,

Now all we hear are children, dogs and ever chirping birds.

By afternoon we venture out to search for some fresh bread

Only to find they're all sold out and Sam looks almost dead

On his feet with all the rush to bake a triple set

As Asda, Tesco and the Coop have all run out and yet

They all bake on the premises, a likely tale, when Sam

Has flour enough for more doughnuts, with or without the jam.

But I digress, the sun is slipping gently in the west

So it must be time to settle down for dinner, and the best

Shiraz brought from M&S and a home-made creme brulee

Before a repeat of Mock the Week on Dave to round off the day.

Brian Hick November 2010

©copyright Sally Hick 9.12.22

 14

North facing in November

Grey seas curl against the shore

Brown ridges falling awkwardly

On pebble bank before

They sink as quickly as they came

Driven by a Viking storm

Cutting across the Irish sea

Out of a blustered sawn.

How quickly it has changed;

Yesterday morning

Could have been Spring,

Its open sky

A zircon set

Above a placid sea,

As we stood unmoved

By the coolness

From the south.

Brian Hick November 2010

©copyright Sally Hick 30.11.22

 We've only just recovered

From Halloween's dread hosts

With lots and lots

Of tiny tots

Dressed up as ghouls and ghosts,

When on comes 5 November

And Thursday's bonfire night

So we've a week

Of bangs and squeeks

Before there's some respite

From public demonstrations

Of forced frivolity

But now I fear

Christmas is near

And shops throughout the nation

Are wall to wall with carols

All Jingle Bells and sleighs

To make us buy

Another pie

Or Cadbury's Milk Tray

So, in the first week of November

The shops are full of cheer

With Santa hoods

And Christmas puds

And crates of Yuletide beer

X x x x x x x x

Brian Hick 11.11.09

©copyright Sally Hick 31.10.22

11.11.11

A washed out sun striates across he fields

As storm clouds gather over the west hill.

Calm at present, but the gulls can feel

The coming turmoil as they swoop and wheel

In unexpected silence over head.

How does nature appear to know this time,

This day? An armistice, now almost nine

Decades away, and yet the unnumbered dead

Are ever present, and the lines of graves

As poignant to my heart as any loss

More recent or profound, the untolled cost

Flooding my mind, in dull incessant waves,

           My grand-fathers survived, so I remain

           Thankful, but un-absolved from pain.

Brian Hick Nov 2008

©copyright 2021 S Hick