She was a weird slipshadow of a girl
All churlish silences and artless gloom
She’d come to realise herself before her waking time;
Lost happiness in periodic tantrums and cold looks,
Ate little, and immersed herself in books
Found solace in the solitude of sparsely-furnished rooms.

She knew herself too well - she took her flaws
And scrawled them on the wall in solvent ink
Her logic being that her social standing
Was diminutive
And nobody would truly give
A righteous ****, should she be found
Floating face-down, amongst the bullrushes.
Perhaps there would be solitude in death,
Solace in God.
Because it’s ****** to be free,
And that’s too sad.

These exposed moors lie shrunk
and unslaked under searing skies
yet streams in damp bushy sidings
feed thriving ferns or tall bullrushes.

Gorse scorched to unpetaled shards
of stiff pretence once bore yellow gilt
yet life dies on hot clifftops and wings
feeding fledglings seek richer harbours.

This moorland looks on ocean's plenty
as rather precocious for incessant thirst
in midsummer dirth fathers disturbance
to parental warnings of dying seed-heads.        

Unheard their dumb cries for water
when plants' burnt insides become raw.

I am but a dim flare of light, panic lantern.
Much like a portrait in a darkened room,
you search my shadows in the vain hope that
I might betray myself.
Cloak me the hierophant, the lightning struck tower.
Fool: name me the Lady Ineffable.
Steeped in mystomania, I wait sharply.
Whisper once more, with feeling: I shall not tempt.
Spring forth the midnight canopy,
Draw bed curtains of bullrushes,
Let me sleep the sleep of the dead.
A whole forest of golden branches strains
to hear my ragged breaths, sweetheart.

The stream was transparent
like a sky without a cloud
Reflections were apparent
as fresh as a field just ploughed.
The water trickled, it just fell
as if nothing mattered at all
sweeping across where otters dwell
up to the crashing waters in the fall.
It was delightful, refreshing to hear
crystal clear waters along the verge
creeping gingerly to the weir
where fish peep then submerge.
Bullrushes like brooms stand guard
like soldiers in a regimented row
each having such a high regard
where each plant should grow.
Trees shade the dappled splashes
of the odd little leak
up to where the foamy spray crashes
along the stone lined creek.
Kingfishers, as blue as the sea
cradle their catch for grim death
snuggling up in their nests in the tree
living the moment to catch their breath.
The call of the blackbird with a golden beak
singing for its star in the show
oh if only this gorgeous bird could speak
it would tell you things you know.

The stream was transparent
like a sky without a cloud
Reflections were apparent
as fresh as a field just ploughed.
The water trickled, it just fell
as if nothing mattered at all
sweeping across where otters dwell
up to the crashing waters in the fall.
It was delightful, refreshing to hear
crystal clear waters along the verge
creeping gingerly to the weir
where fish peep then submerge.
Bullrushes like brooms stand guard
like soldiers in a regimented row
each having such a high regard
where each plant should grow.
Trees shade the dappled splashes
of the odd little leak
up to where the foamy spray crashes
along the stone lined creek.
Kingfishers, as blue as the sea
cradle their catch for grim death
snuggling up in their nests in the tree
living the moment to catch their breath.
The call of the blackbird with a golden beak
singing for its star in the show
oh if only this gorgeous bird could speak
it would tell you things you know.

The stream was transparent
like a sky without a cloud
Reflections were apparent
as fresh as a field just ploughed.
The water trickled, it just fell
as if nothing mattered at all
sweeping across where otters dwell
up to the crashing waters in the fall.
It was delightful, refreshing to hear
crystal clear waters along the verge
creeping gingerly to the weir
where fish peep then submerge.
Bullrushes like brooms stand guard
like soldiers in a regimented row
each having such a high regard
where each plant should grow.
Trees shade the dappled splashes
of the odd little leak
up to where the foamy spray crashes
along the stone lined creek.
Kingfishers, as blue as the sea
cradle their catch for grim death
snuggling up in their nests in the tree
living the moment to catch their breath.
The call of the blackbird with a golden beak
singing for its star in the show
oh if only this gorgeous bird could speak
it would tell you things you know.

The stream was transparent
like a sky without a cloud
Reflections were apparent
as fresh as a field just ploughed.
The water trickled, it just fell
as if nothing mattered at all
sweeping across where otters dwell
up to the crashing waters in the fall.
It was delightful, refreshing to hear
crystal clear waters along the verge
creeping gingerly to the weir
where fish peep then submerge.
Bullrushes like brooms stand guard
like soldiers in a regimented row
each having such a high regard
where each plant should grow.
Trees shade the dappled splashes
of the odd little leak
up to where the foamy spray crashes
along the stone lined creek.
Kingfishers, as blue as the sea
cradle their catch for grim death
snuggling up in their nests in the tree
living the moment to catch their breath.
The call of the blackbird with a golden beak
singing for its star in the show
oh if only this gorgeous bird could speak
it would tell you things you know.

The stream was transparent
like a sky without a cloud
Reflections were apparent
as fresh as a field just ploughed.
The water trickled, it just fell
as if nothing mattered at all
sweeping across where otters dwell
up to the crashing waters in the fall.
It was delightful, refreshing to hear
crystal clear waters along the verge
creeping gingerly to the weir
where fish peep then submerge.
Bullrushes like brooms stand guard
like soldiers in a regimented row
each having such a high regard
where each plant should grow.
Trees shade the dappled splashes
of the odd little leak
up to where the foamy spray crashes
along the stone lined creek.
Kingfishers, as blue as the sea
cradle their catch for grim death
snuggling up in their nests in the tree
living the moment to catch their breath.
The call of the blackbird with a golden beak
singing for its star in the show
oh if only this gorgeous bird could speak
it would tell you things you know.

The stream was transparent
like a sky without a cloud
Reflections were apparent
as fresh as a field just ploughed.
The water trickled, it just fell
as if nothing mattered at all
sweeping across where otters dwell
up to the crashing waters in the fall.
It was delightful, refreshing to hear
crystal clear waters along the verge
creeping gingerly to the weir
where fish peep then submerge.
Bullrushes like brooms stand guard
like soldiers in a regimented row
each having such a high regard
where each plant should grow.
Trees shade the dappled splashes
of the odd little leak
up to where the foamy spray crashes
along the stone lined creek.
Kingfishers, as blue as the sea
cradle their catch for grim death
snuggling up in their nests in the tree
living the moment to catch their breath.
The call of the blackbird with a golden beak
singing for its star in the show
oh if only this gorgeous bird could speak
it would tell you things you know.

The stream was transparent
like a sky without a cloud
Reflections were apparent
as fresh as a field just ploughed.
The water trickled, it just fell
as if nothing mattered at all
sweeping across where otters dwell
up to the crashing waters in the fall.
It was delightful, refreshing to hear
crystal clear waters along the verge
creeping gingerly to the weir
where fish peep then submerge.
Bullrushes like brooms stand guard
like soldiers in a regimented row
each having such a high regard
where each plant should grow.
Trees shade the dappled splashes
of the odd little leak
up to where the foamy spray crashes
along the stone lined creek.
Kingfishers, as blue as the sea
cradle their catch for grim death
snuggling up in their nests in the tree
living the moment to catch their breath.
The call of the blackbird with a golden beak
singing for its star in the show
oh if only this gorgeous bird could speak
it would tell you things you know.

The stream was transparent
like a sky without a cloud
Reflections were apparent
as fresh as a field just ploughed.
The water trickled, it just fell
as if nothing mattered at all
sweeping across where otters dwell
up to the crashing waters in the fall.
It was delightful, refreshing to hear
crystal clear waters along the verge
creeping gingerly to the weir
where fish peep then submerge.
Bullrushes like brooms stand guard
like soldiers in a regimented row
each having such a high regard
where each plant should grow.
Trees shade the dappled splashes
of the odd little leak
up to where the foamy spray crashes
along the stone lined creek.
Kingfishers, as blue as the sea
cradle their catch for grim death
snuggling up in their nests in the tree
living the moment to catch their breath.
The call of the blackbird with a golden beak
singing for its star in the show
oh if only this gorgeous bird could speak
it would tell you things you know.

The stream was transparent
like a sky without a cloud
Reflections were apparent
as fresh as a field just ploughed.
The water trickled, it just fell
as if nothing mattered at all
sweeping across where otters dwell
up to the crashing waters in the fall.
It was delightful, refreshing to hear
crystal clear waters along the verge
creeping gingerly to the weir
where fish peep then submerge.
Bullrushes like brooms stand guard
like soldiers in a regimented row
each having such a high regard
where each plant should grow.
Trees shade the dappled splashes
of the odd little leak
up to where the foamy spray crashes
along the stone lined creek.
Kingfishers, as blue as the sea
cradle their catch for grim death
snuggling up in their nests in the tree
living the moment to catch their breath.
The call of the blackbird with a golden beak
singing for its star in the show
oh if only this gorgeous bird could speak
it would tell you things you know.

this is the last golden moon that I will see, I should think
the only and the last           so I tiptoe down to Jericho

and watch them wash the artichoke hearts in brine

(I wonder if I could cure my own heart in that fashion)

and the man in the cloth cap gives me a coffee from the machine


I walk back in the weak light of that shadow hour,
When all is still and the doves are cooing in their nests
the moon winks down on me. Don't do it, sister


I am the only and the last    she says           for there is no moonlight in the sepulchre


and in my blue silk shawl, my pale veined hands            that moonstone ring like a fossilised tear

I can't leave myself yet. My mother

in her bed, sleeping soundly, and the river glittering through the bullrushes

this is not my only day, nor my last.