The Idleway
In the Bridleway there are fallen trees,
two trunks entwined like histories,
caged in dead, brown brambles,
roped with dried bryony.
After a while, I came to name it Idleway
Cart horses never bridle there today
but oak tree trunks lie there to rot
between the banks, and foxes trot.
**************************
Spring Returns or The Drunkard's Crocus
Like cocktail glasses on a bar
yellow, white and blue
crocuses in order are opening to catch the dew.
Poems
The Idleway
In the Bridleway there are fallen trees,
two trunks entwined like histories,
caged in dead, brown brambles,
roped with dried bryony.
After a while, I came to name it Idleway
Cart horses never bridle there today
but oak tree trunks lie there to rot
between the banks, and foxes trot.
**************************
Spring Returns or The Drunkard's Crocus
Like cocktail glasses on a bar
yellow, white and blue
crocuses in order are opening to catch the dew.