When the winter sun lifts its head above the horizon
For a brief few hours our hearts are lightened
As we remember the warmth and buzz of summer.
But for now, the land lies cold, hibernating
Waiting for that angle of light that signals
New beginnings – Spring.
Poem and photo copyright Englepip©
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©
The winter leaves flutter in the wind
Pulling away from their captive branch,
Trying to break free:
Like trapped birds
Beating their wings at the cage bars,
Seeking new life in the freedom of flight.
Slave to the tree;
Or to you and me.
Poem and photo copyright Englepip©
Snow scene
Paints times of nostalgia
Quintessential village landscape
Bedecked with a blanket of snow
The coverall.
Happy families skipping
by the river path
To the kismet bridge
Beneath the star that was foretold.
And beneath the snow
Under that cloak of invisibility
What lies there on a cold winter night of glad tidings;
Do you know?
Have you watched the homeless
Beg in the shopping mall
And the destitute turn to crime
Or shoot their own stars
So they too can dream of fluffy white*
Marshmallow clouds in the arms
Of evergreen Christmas trees?
Yet it’s Christmas, a time of winter cheer
Giving and goodwill; give it a thought.
I was attracted by this lovely snow scene in the barber’s window and in most of the small shops in town a different if similar Christmas snow scene. So lovely and happy and it did in fact raise my spirits to see it. However, as I sat down to write the poem twisted itself as I thought and saw that our preparations leave the poor and destitute even further behind. A time of goodwill and giving to others has been turned inward and made a gluttony of excess. In my local town the churches have thankfully set up night shelters for the 3 months of December January and February and Christmas Day itself promises to be special. I wonder what Christmas specials are happening in your towns?
Words and photo by Englepip.
A sudden chill
And Autumn turns to winter
Overnight.
Leaves that have clung
Through Autumn gales
Now frozen on each bough
Cling tentatively
Before succumbing to the chill
And falling one by one
By one.
The freezing fog lies
Long into the day,
Mist throughout the
Forest rests
On bracken fronds beneath
Turning them ice-white frosty.
It is as though time has stopped
And nature has withdrawn
To think about its future,
Giving the world
A much needed
Breathing space.
Poem and photo copyright Englepip©
You leave me hanging on
Waiting for a word of commitment,
Not to be found,
But encouraged by your smile
And flattering words I am still here.
You leave me in a limbo
Between emotional life and death
Feelings once blossoming
Subdued and dying back
With each Autumn day.
Caught by the power of your scent
And the addictive intimacy
Of your touch, I was blinded by
Your words of love: a sham.
Now I am held here,
Dangling from your branch
As a dead leaf which turns from green
To brown, until it flutters lifeless
To the ground of your winter.
Photo and words, copyright Englepip©
A winter’s day
And already the sun is low on the horizon
A chill creeps through the air
As the light sinks.
The graveyard settles into shadow
And night.
At my feet lie the dead.
Buried beneath the cold clods
Stones at their heads that read
Of poetic loss and grief at their passing.
“Beloved son”, “Loving mother,”
“Sacred to the memory.”
The once living
Now lie inanimate,
Six feet under.
Waiting: for what?
For eternity, for heaven or for hell?
Certainly, their release from this life passed,
Is there death, new life, resurrection?
For this is a Christian place.
As I turn to go,
I retrieve a discarded rose,
White and innocent in the dewy grass
And I place it on the moss-covered wall
Between the sacred land and the unconsecrated.
Is it for me to sympathise in death or
To celebrate of the life to come?
We shall all find out in time.
Words and photo copyright to Englepip©
Grey, damp and depressing and
The sun hovers just above the horizon
So that days are short and nights long.
A chill envelops me and I cough
Cough up my guts and sniffle.
Oh for summer months and
warm, long days with flowers
In the garden – a sensation of
Colour and scents and glory
At life so profuse. It will come.
And in the meantime, I will dream.
Words and photo copyright Englepip©
Photography by Englepip©
In Winter, I have a penchant for ..
Log fires and mulled wine
Snow boarding or skis
For warm scarves and mittens
And a good book to be read.
Come Spring, my penchant changes
to be out in the wild
to watch the winter frosts melt
And see the newborn lambs.
Then comes the oppressive heat of Summer
And my penchant is …
for a seat in the deepest shade
with a cool lemonade
A good book to read… but no moving.
Come the Fall, I’m out again
And my penchant is ….
For colour and for leaves,
I can kick, leaves I can crunch
Nature’s work of art.
But the constant penchant,
The consistent penchant,
The one dependable and true
Is the penchant I share with YOU!
Well … that’s my pen chant for today.
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.
Englepip's World 