With precision and aplomb,
The ceremony’s begun
And the soldier marches quick
Around the gun.
Dressed in military red
With his shako on his head,
He steps around the cannon
To his post.
Then with solemnity polite
He lights the fuse and sets alight
The shot that marks the noon
On Guernsey Isle.
Poem and photo copyright Englepip©
Please read the following link for more information on this ceremony.
via Daily Prompt: Ceremony
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©
Winter is over
Bright celandines awaken
Welcome smile of Spring.
Haiku and photo copyright Englepip©
For the Wednesday photo theme Awakening
Your eye catches mine
And in an instant I am drawn
To your unblinking stare
Which digs deep into
My soul.
That eye drills
Into my very being
And holds me
To account.
Who could surmise
That such innocence
Was so omniscient.
I was travelling by bus when this child – no more than 18 months and sitting on its mother’s knee in front me, captured my attention, staring unblinking into my own eye. Seemingly the toddler could see my very thoughts. It was an eerie experience which I have remembered for years. I had to look away to break the spell. The title in the daily prompts brought it all back to me, now.
Photo and poem copyright Englepip ©
Photo by Englepip©
You would think there were giant skulls
Awkwardly rising from the grassy edges of the field,
Combatants of Saxon times,
Reawakened by the late summer sun,
Reviving to drink afresh the air
Of evening on the chalk Downland and
To march again along the dusty ancient droves
To battle.
But if they are skulls, they are marred,
By scars cut deep into flesh and bone
Sores of ancient battle
As warrior hacked warrior to the death.
But reality is equal to imagination
Both Exceptional
And the Giant Puffballs are a marvel of nature
Huge and resounding to the thrumming
Of your hand, like ancient drums
Yet also so delicious and nutritious that
Even the snails have eaten through the flesh
and the deer nibbled to the innards
Of this exceptional, gigantic, gastronomic delight.
Sometimes things just get in the way
Too much to do and too much to say.
Sometimes busyness takes us over,
Hard to live, when jobs spillover.
Sometimes those we love get ignored
They take up time we cannot afford.
Sometimes time just runs away
And it’s gone before the end of the day.
And if you think I’m just being witty
Wasting your time with a rhyme or a ditty
Then consider the following if you can
What’s the purpose of every (wo)man
If we can’t laugh, love, lead a life that’s true
Cos we’re making excuses that our time flew,
Telling each other there’s no time for you.
Then who are we really and do we deserve
To even exist on this wonderful earth?
So take a moment, a minute, or even an hour
To balance your life and take back the power:
To make your life calmer, even serene:
To begin to remember who you’ve been
Before things took over and time became mean.
Then life will improve and you will feel new;
Take time to consider how time plays with you.
Photo by Englepip©
Photos by Englepip ©
Peculiar – that’s what it is
When wetness falls out of the heavens
to touch the trees and the mountaintops,
making pools on the ground ….
but such is rain.
Strange when the ocean recedes
And the rocks are exposed for hours
Before it returns to the same place to start over ….
As the tides come and go.
Odd when the leaves fall off the trees
and the branches wave like witches’ fingers in the cold
when temperatures plummet ……
in the Fall.
Unfamiliar when the land is covered in snow
And it drifts in folds across the landscape
Making everything clean and white and blanketed ……
in winter.
Uncanny when the wind screeches wildly
Whipping up the water into huge waves
Demolishing our world ……..
in a hurricane.
Bizarre when standing on dry land
leads to slipping and sliding as though on glass
And nothing is stable enough to be walked on ……..
without falling on the ice.
Peculiar, that the most natural things in the world
Our weather, seasons and tides can be so strange.
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.
Englepip's World 