Poem : Upland Britain 1

after: Upland Britain: A natural history. Margaret Atherden.

Manchester University Press, 1992.

1: The physical features of upland Britain

Who said rocks? Which rocks?

Who said the Tees-Exe line?

Who said above three thousand feet?

This is my assessment of the uplands sign.

If we're talking rocks

The North Downs were my uplands

Rugged chalk

And dusty summer roads

And Old Man's Beard.

It takes all sorts.

But, this year,

It is whatever takes 

me in

My imagination

One two three. One two three.

Quick quick slow. Quick quick slow,
In the dance of geological time as
Basalt columns stand around the walls

Back to

Upper Teesdale

To that sweep of hill

To the plover arching sky       

Over and above the strata's rise and fall

Where it is time to take your partners. To move. To move. To move

And move together

To the pinching grip of Man upon the land

And Woman

In the whitewashed farmsteads

That are my source of joy.

[16.09.2011; revised 14.12.2011]
[I never did enter it for that poetry competition. But then, it was very rough. Only now, perhaps, after the accumulated months have scoured the landscape of unnecessary words, can it be considered done.]

Poem: For September

September 

16.09.2011

Today, the weather is playing at being autumn.

It is not of course. It is an aberration.

The summer is still here.

The sun's warmth is hidden by the clouds.

But, as I get out my winter jumpers

And watch the rain,

I'm glad

I mowed the grass yesterday.

[16.09.2011; revised 14.12.2011]

I wrote

Today, I wrote a poem for today. I'm saving it for a competion, not published anywhere.
It mentions the North Downs and Upper Teesdale. But I'm not saying any more.