How can I describe, my beloved one,
The mountain’s glory in the morning sun
How can I tell you of the silent glade
In the snowy depths of the forest shade?
And how shall I capture for you the spell
Of the crystal showers in the frozen dell?
Category Archives: Seasons
Seagulls in ploughed fields
Seagulls in ploughed fields
Rise white in flight, scattering
Rooks wildly cawing.
At long last the snow comes
At long last the snow comes,
Hesitantly at first,
Unsure of its welcome
In this precocious spring,
Then thicker and wilder,
Bestowing wet kisses
All over, head to toe,
Ardent, anxious to please.
I abandon myself
To its cold embraces,
Throwing open my arms
And lifting up my face.
Everything else cedes too
And settles down quickly
Under the thick blanket.
2 March 1990
I have a homing instinct for the stars 
You must be logged in to post a comment.