She stands upon the shoreline, eyes peeled through breaking sea.
Windswept dunes and tide line, seaweed, pebbles and just thee. Far out beyond the horizon, stirring in the cobalt deep. There's a flicker of a tail fin, stretching sinew from slumbering heap. She's lithe and sleek, scales glistening, in shafts of moonlight shone. Answering an ancient calling, of a journey just begun. Through reef, along current, of a destination she is sure. A birthplace only known to her, individual and just pure. Inside the outstretched peninsula, a ripple of hope is barely seen. A swell of expectant bodies, ready, excited, very keen. Co-joined they are at estuary, between sand bar and the beach. Foot and gill a stride apart, just out of each others reach. A pace is taken forward, not one but three or four. Saline giving way to water, washing open homeward door. A yard or two along the riverbank, flat stone replaced by rock. There's a swishing and a splashing, a tick of body clock. Upstream there is momentum, the walk becomes a run. Pulses start a racing, breeding time has come. The salmon start a leaping, across weir and open brook. From eyes there is a seeping, of a longing for a look. A strong heart is so needed, for such a herculean jump. Around whirlpool and up waterfall, all faith in upward pump. At last upon the spawning ground, ones life can come to rest. A new generation in the birthing, all given of their best. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2020 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below.
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There is a silence and a stillness, to this place I love to be.
Where the simplest trickle of the water, brings a sense of peace to me. I've descended the steep hillside, like a little mountain goat. To a secluded cove, dear to me, only accessible by boat. I'm now in rapture, warm and naked, close to my beloved sea. Where the sun and cloud have separated, to leave sky blue, totally free. A breeze comes to caress me, and every follicle of feeling. Where an energy is present, bringing any amount of healing. There's rock pippets here, grasshoppers, emerald green beetles. Cathedrals of stone, jagged edges, very tall dark steeples. There's a majesty in the calmness, in the gentleness and karma. Whatever hour you are present here, each one equivalent to dhama. Kingfishers have been seen here, wooly sheep, and racing pigeon. Bringing messages from afar, great mystery by the legion. Two ravens croak above, black eagles of the divine. My heart begins to soar, my spirit starts to shine. I've written many a word here, letters, poems and true prose. I've had many a thought here, of dreams I do propose. A skinny dip is often called for, a plunge into the cerulean deep. Where silk wraps all around me, sending me off to a dreamy sleep. Kestrels hover on an updraft, eyes focussed on next prey. I'm happy, I'm in clover, on this very special day. Time to reflect and mull things over, bringing insight and pure wisdom. This is the place I call home, where there is true love and more freedom. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2020 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below. Born out of the moorland heart
you do not notice me. Trickling down your backward slopes, to start you do not notice me. Flowing beneath the path of adolescent feet you do not notice me. Bounding beyond your working week you do not notice me. Through shadowy depths and sparkling heights you do not notice me. Where people play and fly their kites you do not notice me. Around right angle bends, that trouble sends you do not notice me. Meandering past midlife, towards my journeys end you do not notice me. Slowing down now, no longer flete afoot you do not notice me. Bye swan and drake and even boat you do not notice me. I’ve reached my voiced desire at last you do not notice me. On golden sand I retire my past you do not notice me. From source to mouth I am as one you do not notice me. Out to sea where my life doth come you do not notice me. Finally I am gone and you have none you notice me. Dry riverbed, no more fun you notice me. Enlightenment comes all too late you notice me. Resigning yourself to your chosen fate you notice me. Now you care and stop and stare you notice me. Busy life gone, resources scarce you notice me. No drink, no wash, no fish, no dove you notice me. No growth, no dosh, no life, no love you notice me. Oh to start again from the beginning to be with me. Never again shall you neglect our twinning to be with me. One drop of emotion is all that is needed to be with me. Back at the heart where our lifeblood is seeded to be with me. What to do for a second chance to be with me. No end of turns at river dance to be with me. Scratching your head for life’s true meaning to be with me. When all life looks spent, it starts raining you’re with me. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2020 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below. There’s a strange shape at rest on the landscape.
With no clue as to friendship or foe. A huge bulk of a beast in its torso. We approach with great caution, wisely so. He’s snoring away in his slumber. His pot belly at the rise and then fall. We tip toe past this most fearsome of warthogs. Keeping quietly hidden and small. Beyond we look nervously over shoulder. To see if our progress wakes him from sleep. And so start running away to the boundary. When an abrupt snort comes from the deep. For now he’s rolled over more active. Alive at the prospect of lunch. Of a human or two on the menu. And what else could add to his brunch. He paws at the ground with his trotters. Gores down in the Earth with his tusk. Sweat pours from his brow and his midriff. A swine in his prime in full musk. He meanders his way to the fence line. A saunter becomes canter and then run. Before a stall in momentum against stake post. In his charge more sternness than fun. He sniffs hard at the air of his quarry. Stands rigid against territory wall. No hint to his thoughts or his actions. And whether flight is now needed or call. And yet there in his strength is an offer. To come closer and examine this kin. To stand tall along with his power. And share in his great presence and win. For he has not come for the fighting. Not least in the tradition of war. Instead he his here to inspire poet. To join forces with bard as wild boar. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2020 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below. In the glint of the golden light.
She whispers in the wind. Stationary, still, bobtail twitching. She gives notice of the behind. Hidden along the boundary. Her russet flank of fleece doth flicker. Heralding the rusting of the day. And the onset of night more quicker. She's gentle, she's magic. All senses fully attentive. The hush of twilight falls upon her. As evening time starts to sieve. Mist upon the valley floor. Laps up against the hedges. Ridden steeds stand tall. Shapes become foggy at the edges. A tide of black and white rolls forth. A moo-vement towards the fence. A nurturing, maternal force. Grazing upon the day's pretence. Dew dropped grasses. Bitten, scrunched and crunched. Cud chewed over, thoughts mulled. Painful memories punched. There's a gallop upon the skyline. A whinnying of an equine master. Feathered white wings take flight. As dreams approach ever faster. Darkness seeps in now. Where sunshine once lay. Silence takes hold. Time to sleep, and pray. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2019 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below. The forest is shrouded in quiet.
Hushed grasses stay mute in the breeze. There's no danger it seems, no riot. So why just the feeling of unease. Every hair is stood to attention. Every sense attuned to the void. No sound to offer a mention. Yet flight instincts are ready and buoyed. Every pupil is scanned to the bushes. Every hoof prepared for the race. No stripe to be seen in the rushes. But the pulse just quickens a pace. Ears twitch and strain for a murmur. For the foot fall of velvety paw. Dust cushions the imprint of grandeur. No whisper of troublesome spoor. Breath is held in the moment. A pause before imminent strike. Prey pray for salvation, atonement. To be spared the carnivorous bite. The stalk is finally over. Forgotten in one leap and a bounce. A blaze of orange breaks cover. No chance for the chosen, one pounce. Fang and claw stretch out in the capture. Primal scream unleashed in the fall. Grabbed by the throat in the rapture. The vanquished can utter no more. One gasp just left in the mortal. One chest pump from imminent doom. Darkness has surrounded life's portal. But the tiger still shines in the gloom. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2019 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below. Forgive me mother, for getting too big.
No room is there left now, for lion or pig. Forgive me mother, for multiplying too many. In habitat loss, species die two a penny. Forgive me mother, for conceiving more kids. No concept of growth, or population lids. Forgive me mother, for expanding so fast. The cities created, such shadows they cast. Forgive me mother, for sprawling too wide. Railroads and highways, with you they collide. Forgive me mother, for commuting so much. Clogging your airways, losing nature's touch. Forgive me mother, for being a child. Trashing kerbside in tantrum, forest when riled. Forgive me mother, for creating such mess. With plastic and litter, turtles choke in distress. Forgive me mother, for polluting your streams. Blackening water with oil, culling indigenous dreams. Forgive me mother, for depleting your gifts. Searching for treasure, only finding thrift. Forgive me mother, for claiming your body. Raping your landscapes, all for more money. Forgive me mother, for flaunting your wealth. Felling your trees, at the expense of health. Forgive me mother, for warming you up. No snow left for white bear, grey seal or pup. Forgive me mother, for acting the fool. Playing for time, when ice caps pool. Forgive me mother, for gambling it all. In Wall Street casinos, on stock rise and fall. Forgive me mother, for trying your patience. No thoughts to actions, just quarrelling between nations. Forgive me mother, for electing the leaders. Barely out of nappy, consumption hungry breast feeders. Forgive me mother, for everything they diss. When comparing their manhood, or height of their piss. Forgive me mother, for surrendering my power. Not voicing my stance, championing beast and flower. Forgive me mother, for neglecting my duty. Of being protector of the Earth, steward of beauty. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2019 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below. Take me to your bosom, oh bountiful Mother Earth.
Let me lick upon your nipples, upon hillsides you have birthed. Cradle me in your mountain tops, hold me in luscious ravines. Enthrall me with your peaks and troughs, allow me to sleep in meadows and dream. Embrace me in your valley's cleavage, wrap me in mists of silk. Permit me to drink of your waters, and suckle of your milk. Pull me close into your body, envelope me with your love. Grant me to listen to your heart beat, just a molecule from above. Cuddle me in forests, cover me in grassy plains. Drape me in savannah, keep me from going insane. Warm me in your deserts, caress me on your beach. Touch me ever so softly, with your flora and your beast. Clothe me in your estuaries, serenade me with morning song. Nurture me with field and hedgerow, feed me landscapes to which I long. Sit me upon your plateau, nuzzle me with marsh and steppe. Bounce me upon your tundra, speak to me words I'll never forget. Kiss me with your sunsets, painted vivid upon the sky. Tuck me in at night, all the stars bedecked within your eye. Whisper to me with your wind, sprinkle me with your sand. Be forever next to me, walking with me hand in hand. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2018 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below. |
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