Posts tagged ‘songs’


High Summer at the Roman Fort (Mastile’s Lane)


I heard the ravens calling south,

And crows and jackdaws called as loud.

They tumbled off towards the scar,

And hung on uplifts by the cliff.


I heard the promise of the clouds,

The tick of wheatear, buzz of wire,

The ceaseless flowing of the grass,

The voice of bees, the songs of breeze.


The sounds were here, were always here,

Were here when Romans piled their stones,

And here to carry off the screams

Of sacrifice to temple gods.


I heard the ravens call the rain,

I heard them call through time again.




Moonrain Seasilk


You sang a song I couldn’t know.

The moon had soaked the blood of life,

The words were lost beneath the rain,

The ghosts of ghosts sat at our feet.


You screamed as if the world had lungs,

The shattered glass smoothed soft by tides.

No speech could reach the pain you brought

Into the sealight roar of dawn.


You danced one evening on a lawn,

Immaculate in lunar silk.

You skipped the shadows with each step,

Your starfish heart within my heart.


You sang, you danced, you screamed, you drank,

You came alive as sunlight sank.




The Sylph of Finance


Their songs are passed from cloud to cloud

As haloed rainbows, curved from sound.

Their words are rhymed and timed to hide

The storms unleashed across the Earth.


Their songs are shaken from their wings,

And, feathers flicking, ring and ring

The ancient notes so clear and pure.

They sing in bliss and perfect pitch.


One note to bleed the working poor,

The next to drain the moorland peat.

A simple tune to stoke the fears:

Unheard the prayers, the cries, the grief.


Their songs they sing from distant skies,

As old as air, untouched by care.



Linked up on d’verse


The Sylph of Air and Time


Between the treetops time has curves

Where decades twine like blackbird’s songs,

Where centuries are interlaced,

And pasts are born from future space.


To work the weave you sway with trees,

And wind your mind up through the leaves.

Your neurons switch from time through time,

Through interlinking rings which bind.


In them you’ll live what might have been,

And twist back out through what is not:

All knowledge of the lives and deaths,

Are hanging in the forest’s breaths.


The chaos of this heavy air

Creates the mirage we see there.