Is it winter?

There was a time when winters here were cold
When snow and ice bit deep into the bone
And frosted windows met us, rising, every morn
When icy pavements meant we slipped and slid along.
There was a time when summers were so warm
The sun shone bright between the clouds
And heat rose humid from the fields,
Bright with wildflowers, buzzing insects
And the heady scents of earth and farm.
But then came now, and now it should be winter
But the February temperature tells me no,
For I feel the heat rise across both town and country
See a clear blue unremitting glare upon the water
And the butterflies awake and flit and start
But it is winter or is winter summer now?
For this thing called climate change has confused us all.

Poem and photo copyright Englepip©

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Daily Prompt: New dawn

I stand by the road
Watching the sun rise:
Dissipating the early morning fog
Which has hung like a blur
Across the landscape.
The frost freezes my toes and fingers
And my breath, a smoky dragon breath
Hangs in the morning air.

First there was nothing
Not a hand before my face
Could be seen in the dark whiteness;
As though the world was lost to me.

Even the sounds were muffled.

But then comes a glimmer
Turning grey to yellow
So that cloudiness
Thins into suffused brightness.
And then with one intense burst of sunlight,
The world throws off its murky past.
And all that seemed lost is found.
The birds trill their morning greetings.
And the road ahead emerges,
A winding, uncertain track
Reaching into the distance.
But now I know which way to travel.
I start out, gladly, full of hope.

 

I wrote this poem as a metaphor. It is about emerging from depression. It is possible to feel lost, as though every person, thing and place we know has changed and disappeared from our lives; as though we are cut off and shrouded from the world and can find no future. That is the dark night in the fog.  However,  gradually, oh so gradually light emerges; we begin to see  a way forward and no matter how uncertain  it is, it is so important to recognise the way and take the chance. For there is always a way forward, no matter how far we have sunk into ourselves.

Poem and photo copyright Englepip©

 

via Daily Prompt: Disappear

Daily Prompt: Above Ullswater

 

 

Above the valley and the lake

We look down from the silence

To the busyness and beauty below

A toy town of village cottages

On the lower slopes and

The lake like a puddle,

Miniature steamers plying its waters.

Sounds rise from below,

Shouts of children in the beck

Paddling and dam building in the summer sun.

And the hooting of the steamer as she leaves port

To sail the length of Ullswater.

But no traffic. Not here.

The trees occasionally obliterate the view

Like the frames on a triptych

Fringing the scene with foliage.

And all the while the shadows

Race across the hillsides,

Turning greens into purples

And back again as the cloud scapes

Weave across field and fell and crag.

 

From above, we marvel at the distance

And the depth of this poetic landscape,

Subject of Romanticists

And we feel  the history of the place

Walking in the steps of Wainwright

But also Wordsworth, Southey

Coleridge and Lamb

And it is the lambs themselves

Whose sound punctuates

The high land: hauntingly plaintive.

 

We look down from above and

Feel like self-satisfied gods

Admiring our faultless handiwork

Below.

 

If you have never visited The Lake District of the UK, I thoroughly recommend it. There are still pockets of quiet and you can sometimes have a whole mountainside to yourself.

These were the hills traversed by the Lake Poets of the eighteenth century, Wordsworth and Coleridge the most famous. Whilst they concentrated their walks to the south of the lakes, they had a great appreciation of the whole district. Wainwright was a great fell walker of the last century, who wrote amazing guides to the walks there.

 

via Daily Prompt: Above

Daily Prompt: Help the elephants

 

Would you put me in a zoo

Because you think it’s safer

Or for your entertainment

‘Cos I’m cute?

Would you hem me in with fences?

Take horizons from my eyes

And the freedom that

Your species seems to prize?

No let me take my chances

Feel the wind upon my hide

Give me the dignity

To roam in landscapes vast.

But if you want to help me

Keep your poachers in control

Put them behind the bars

You would put me.

 

I recently had the pleasure of visiting a game park and seeing the wonderful wildlife in Africa in its natural habitat. The vastness of the landscape in Africa is awesome. To take wild animals for zoos or pets, is terrible and when you have seen the hugeness of the landscapes they are supposed to inhabit it seems immensely cruel. Some argue that zoos are there to protect wildlife but it is the habitat loss and poaching we should be tackling to a much greater degree in my opinion. You may be interested to read what is happening in East Africa.

 

Poem and photo copyright Englepip©

 

via Daily Prompt: Zoo

Day 2

Digital artwork by Englepip© using LunaPic

 

 

Sunshine and showers.

Sunshine and clouds then

Sunshine and wind.

If the weather changes so do I.

If it is hot sooo am I.

Husky dusky hot but too hot to handle.

If the weather is sombre

I see black but

If the weather is grey

I fade into nothingness

But… if the wind blows down the valley

and the sun shines on the fields

I dance in the open

And glow with happiness.