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Dark and windy
Westerly weather
Hushing round the sycamore
Rushing through the slender Ash
Hissing in the rushes
By the black, black lake
Raven, strong and stately
Flows into the wind
On the turbulent edge
Finding his way,
Like a dark insinuation
In the grey.
Merlin flickers like fire
On the rim of the hill
As startled Swallows
shriek their warnings,
A Heron, eyes wild,
Hunting for frogs
Spring-loaded with guile
Out on the splashy bogs

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