Morning light

You lie beside me in the morning light
Still held by sleep, your hand beneath your face.
The sky is pale, the day but half begun,
And in the stillness of the morning air
Lies promise of a golden summer day.

Cow Parsley

This year there is a
Splendid crop of cow parsley
In St Peter’s Valley.
I know you think it funny
That I should love this
Tall ungainly flower which
Grows head and leafy shoulders
Over scarlet campion
And ragged robin,
But its clouds of faded white
Are the saving grace
Of many a marshy field.


Le Grand Bois at Bazouges

(Bordered to the south by fields of green maize)

The dawn is still.
No trembling leaf
Betrays the trace
Of passing breeze.
Each blade of maize
In the great field
Before the house
Awaits the sun.