Showing posts with label seasons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label seasons. Show all posts

Friday, November 29, 2024

 1327

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


Tuesday, January 23, 2024

 1102

Wassail!


The  autumn's apple harvest is in store,

            The chutney made, the cider stilled,

            The cakes fresh baked, the punch-bowl filled

And we, in winter knowing the season's law


Cry Wassail and celabrate together;

            That first fruit of Eden ta'en,

            That hidden star that eased our pain,

That blossom promised, and ever changing weather,


Create the eternal cycle of our lives.

            So drain the punch-bowl to the core,

            Certain there will be still more

As long as love and friendship both survive.


Brian Hick January 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 23.1.24

Monday, January 22, 2024

 1101

The earth is waiting silent as the sun

Which slinks across the greying winter skies

Content that the warmer days will come.

The earth is waiting.

Trees and bushes, dead to the casual eye,

Are urging early snowdrops to arise,

As far away they hear the muted sigh

Of Spring returning from the depth, to prise

A resurrection from the fields which lie

Expectant, knowing nothing really dies.

The earth is waiting.


Brian Hick January 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 22.1.24

Friday, July 28, 2023

 966


Proserpine

Of all the months I've come to hate September

For once moe it took you away from me,

Leaving winter's never ending scree

Of memories I'd rather not remember.

A pomegranate seed - a thing so small

It's difficult to realise the harm

It caused, so that your child's warmth and charm

With autumn's peace, were banished for us all.


Here I wait, counting the days until

The ice recedes and snowdrops push their heads

Up through the wasted weeds and flower beds,

The sun begins to warm not just to light,

The moon sits softer as I watch the night

Then, you are here again, and all is well.


Dr Brian Hick summer 2011

©copyright Sally Hick 28.7.23


Saturday, February 11, 2023

 898


7.20

A fox,upon the bank above the platform,

Padding unconcerned along the path

Unseen by the commuters waiting for their train;

And then a second, appearing through the hedge.

They meet, exchange a friendly look in greeting,

Then amble off in opposite directions.


When I arrived they were not there

And seconds later the bank above the platform

Was empty, as it has been these last weeks,

But I sensed in that brief and casual meeting

That spring might at last be on its way.


Brian Hick Feb 2011

©copyright Sally Hick 11.2.22