Christchurch standing on a hill


Christchurch standing on a hill

around it ageless houses standing in the still

Inside the smell

Where worn flags and clay tombs dwell

The sound on each  flagstone

Like a drum beating in a deadly night

The dark interrupted by prisms of light

Injects into the soul of the confused visitor

The feeling of despair and not hope

 

 

I walk familiar ways


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I walk familiar ways

Every day is different

Maybe it’s a small branch tingling in the breeze

Deserted by a bird

Sometimes it’s a wave from a stranger

Or listening to my footfall breaking the silence

Or a child feeding the gulls

Intimate with their babble

Then watching the canal fire into disorder

As ducks and swans rush to the party

 

 

 

I walk familiar ways

Every day is different

Maybe it’s a small branch tingling in the breeze

Deserted by a bird

Sometimes it’s a wave from a stranger

Or listening to my footfall breaking the silence

Or a child feeding the gulls

Intimate with their babble

Then watching the canal fire into disorder

As ducks and swans rush to the party

BULLFINCH


This beautiful and most colourful finch has a nest at the Knox, beside the Canal. I was struck by his beauty and wrote this poem to celebrate


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I SAW A BULLFINCH TODAY

AN AWESOME BIRD WITH NOTHING TO SAY

BEAUTIFUL BIRD BUT HE CANNOT SING

EVAN WHEN EVERY BRANCH BURSTIS LIT WITH SPRING

HIS BEAUTY MADE ME FREEZE AT THE SPOT

AND SPEAK I DARE NOT

HIS MAGIC THREW A SPELL ON ME TO  STAND

I WAS LOOKING AT THE COLOURS OF GODS HAND