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Grey
Shimmering light
Behind the curtains
A wilder wind
Screaming at
The impossibility.
No straight lines
On days like this
Everything is insinuation
This day can't be confronted
Head on.
Find a way
Round the back of the wind
Taking life from the side
Only the solitary Swallow
Smiles at the gale
Knowing that it will take him
Where he needs to be.

A wild wind
This feels like autumn
Windblown leaves
Fallen fruit
Gulls are wheeling in the gale
Like the weather
They've lost their summer heads
My moorland oak
Is straining by the barn
Screaming air
Flowing through the gaps
I wonder if the swallows
Are just hiding
Or studying their maps
Before their great escape
To warmer climes
And leave us once again
To howling winter.

Sometimes the music
Is louder than the wind
It drowns out the noise
Of an unquiet world
It is a beautiful place to be
When the trees are loud
And the wires whistle.
Autumn is just around the corner
And my mother's daisies
Are in full bloom now
Waiting in the margins
As I climb.
There's a rainbow at the top
Of my steepening hill
And a Kestrel circling
Over the Curlew field
And I feel a gap in the sky
Where the skylark sang
In springtime

It is only a small thing
It probably doesn't matter
Too much, not really.
I suppose at least it means
That I know you were there.
Once I saw you
In the light of a blue moon
Dancing in the heather
And then again
Perhaps I didn't.
Maybe it wasn't you
Maybe it wasn't blue.
Then, perhaps I saw you
With another
Full of joy
Almost smiling
your almost smile
And here you are,
and there we were,
Wild and free and fair
I will follow your joy
Everywhere.

Still and quiet
Swallows sail
Around a silver sun
I can feel their excitement
At the new morning
Towers of dock
The colour of old iron
Tired grey thistles
Gold in their tinkling
Baubled with finches
Tumbling thistledown
Drifting in clouds
Free now, to go
Let the soft air
Go where it will
And fly.

The top field was mowed
A month ago
And then it was
A wasteland
Now deep green
An arena
A place where legends
Stand to face their demons
A place of dancing hares
And golden treasure.
These walls were built
By gnarly, knowing hands
With gritty nails
And bruised knuckles.
You face the morning
And I face the evening
We will meet in the midday sun.
We clear away the stones
And, placing them with care
Divide the world.

The forecast is fair
But I'm on the edge of a soaking
Grey skies, heavy air
But I feel strong
Powerful
Lit the gold
Of goldenrod and gorse,
And boistrous Swallows
Lead me up
To higher ground
Where the sun shines
Silver through the cloud
A Kestrel pair
Dare dark Ravens
With skillful flight
And wild abandon
And everyone is dancing
Making music
Even the moor
Dressed in purple heather
Is humming.

Oh, the peace
And the light
and the mystery of it all
Dappled blue sky
And a silver sun
Shines through a silver mist
Dewdropped cobwebs
Tinsel around tall cypress trees
Wrapped round thistle prickles
Fine threads
Wave gently in a soft breeze
Hardly a sound.
Swallows stitch time
With eager dances
Through the gate and round.
A roe deer and a wily fox
And an all-seeing owl
Wait for space
To disappear
I turn my back
Then they are gone.

A grey, windy day
Low blows the breeze
It hums through the wires
Its soft music
Hushes the trees
And the darkening leaves
Rustle and hiss.
The steepening road
Stretches out
Its endless furrow.
A single magpie
Hints at azure above the grey
And as I look
I see at last the beauty
A painterly sky
Washed over the heavens
To the east
Gold and rose
Pink and lilac
All lit by a silver sun
My peace and my rest

A beautiful day
Walked across the golden carpet
Into a clear blue sky
And all the way
Ravens flew with us
Singing
In their softest tones
Butterflies,
Brave and fragile
Leaving their thistles behind
And fluttering
Like an idea
I couldn't quite get a hold of
But which I know in my heart
Is beautiful.
How beautiful
To find our way
To the breathy top
And stop
To see the whole world
With a new advantage
And spend a minute
In the company of silent stone
To watch the swallows flying

Daisy days
And gathering swallows
The wires sway
With chatter
And fluttering
weightlessness
Geese are gathering too
And for a moment
The north goes dark
with their great number
A young Kestrel
Over the top field, calling
The world is against him
And wants him to fail
Learning from a beautiful teacher
How to hold still
And dare to stay focussed
In a bright silver sky

A grey day
Soft and heavy
The air is thick
Like treacle
And it's raining
But the rain is cool
And it tastes sweet
I can hear music
Goldfinches tinkle
On bearded thistles
And the soft South wind
Has raised the raucous rooks
The road is shining
Where it meets the sky
Grey sky breaks
To welcome a silver sun
And the light of morning
Shines around me
All the birds are singing
And what I thought was going to be dull
Is, in fact, truly, truly beautiful.

I know a place
Where meadowsweet sings
In the soft tones
of nectar and honey
Where harebells tinkle
A gentle blue
And scabious lights
The warm air of morning
In lilac.
Swallows are flying high today
Wheeling great arcs
In a summer blue sky
Harvesting courage
And storing it up
In their tiny brave hearts
They are flying me down
To the ice crystal stream
To drink cool waters
And dream.

Warmer air
Lilac tinted by
Heather and knapweed
Meadowsweet-scented
Carried by a wind
Less wild
I notice the way the rain
Feels cool against my skin
And love its gentle blessing
Wild water does this to us
It reminds us what is real.
A Kestrel
Find his place
Then waits.
Have you noticed the swallows
today, my love?
Screaming with joy
Tearing into the mist of midges
And knowing they are soon to fly.

Today the stars fall from the sky
And the gale blows us all to autumn
The wires are howling like winter
Moorlands and meadows
Move like an ocean
Rooks and crows
Still in the wildness
Hang like black kites
on the turbulent edge
But the Swallows
Are finding the space
between the waves
They fly like arrows
Against the tide
These winds disturb me
And buffet my ride
I can cope with the blows
From the front and the back
But struggle to steer
With those from my side.

I will carry your heart
To the top of the hill
In all of its gentle light.
It is not a weight to bear
It helps me to fly
There,
We can see the swallows
Gathering by the byre
And the heather is glowing
On the moor, a gentle fire
A million little lilac flames
And the air, shimmering
Dancing to the breeze
Everything burning
With love.
Even the trees
The leaves are turning
And the rowan sets red light
To the meadow.

The hope is in the knowing
That the wheel will turn again
It's cold today
And the wind has an edge
The sky is grey and heavy
And the fields are full of weeds
But this is a time of gold
Ragweed is a paradise
to butterflies and bees
Each its own small galaxy
Each bloom
Its own golden heart
Swallows weave
Between tall towers
Of willowherb and dock
Like the tailors needle
Stitching us together
Making our world
More beautiful
One thread at a time

Wild music
Gathering geese
Great in number
And loud across the silver waters
Echoing across the rushy hillside
To the summit
Where I wait.
Dark Ravens
in the heavens
Calling down
In spirals
As they soar
Upon the thermals
Rising softly
From the moor
Cool and clear
A stong wind blowing
And winter feed
is right for stacking
Dried and tied
And dressed in black

Wild music
Gathering geese
Great in number
And loud across the silver waters
Echoing across the rushy hillside
To the summit
Where I wait.
Dark Ravens
in the heavens
Calling down
In spirals
As they soar
Upon the thermals
Rising softly
From the moor
Cool and clear
A stong wind blowing
And winter feed
is right for stacking
Dried and tied
And dressed in black

The Rowan's red is deepening
And Goldenrod
is high with yellow froth
Wormwood silver
shimmers by the ditch
Swallows flying low
along the road
Wheeling through
The milk-rich pasture
The southern wind is stronger
And the sky is heavy
It may rain
But there's joy
In my heart
And a gentle greeting
From the silver Heron rising
From the tinkling stream

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matty7w

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