And when the sun sets

Life becomes a silhouette

Time becomes unset

Sun catches old firs

We pine to be lifted up

By its golden light

All across England

Scattered oaks watch o’er our fields

While we live and die

Only the hawthorn

Can fight the rolling molars

Brandished by these sheep

Thread a needle line

Through the iris of the storm

Be nature’s pupil

As days run away

They will help us to answer

Questions never asked

I know that one day

I’ll look back at these years and

Miss them desperately

Straw, water, clay, sand

A wall that is made by hand

From parts of the land

Can I see myself

Reflected in other eyes?

To myself I’m blind

The year’s first bramble

Sweet and warm in the sunshine

Autumn, wait a while

Cerulean skies

Yellow grass and yarrow brass

We’re still flying high

Black heart, empty soul

A broken shell, deeper hole

Swim round the fish bowl

Where is the wild life?

Crouching in a far corner?

Driven out to sea?

Goodbye to July

I never understood you

Though I often tried

A prickly thistle

Bitter and hard to swallow

Unapproachable

All life is entwined

In tangled threads, woven webs

And intricate nets

Pearly petals shine

Reflecting the sinking sun

I must try again

The final tile laid

A crown against diving rain

Long awaited day

Hope is a flower

How soon it withers away

For another year

Seeds set at sunset

Ripple through ripening grasses

Obey the scythe’s blade

Beneath purple blooms

Downy seeds burst from each head

Next year’s problems spread