Sunday 15 December 2013

A Poem a Day (47): On the train from Cornwall to London


Light floods
Dripping ‘neath the darkening clouds
Orange bathes the stark black lines
Of the spectre trees walking

It peeks, this brightness
This one true light
Blinding the eye that seeks it
Casting the green fields into gold

Like a blanket of corn stirring
Spun in flames of fire
Dusting all that dwells below

Red leaves bristle on hedgerows
The fields dip, deep chasms yawning,
Still here, this yellow glow flickers
Born upon a dream long ago
Where the old pit workings crumble
Grey stone etched with years

Shadowed in the gaze of the sun
A lone tree perches atop a hill
Where the golden tongue runs down
Caressing all with the dust of pixies

A wondrous sight to the passing guest

Streaks of grey blue pierce the light
Chasing night into its own dark cave.


copyright Vickie Johnstone

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