Sharing poetry inspired by nature
Words that have yet to see the light of day
Hello and thank you so much for subscribing to my newsletter. I was delighted when the first readers signed up to read this publication and it continues to thrill me as more people click the button to subscribe. Welcome. As you may have realised, I am trying to fall into a pattern of posting once a week on a Saturday.
After last week’s post about the hidden history of the places that featured the week before in my video post, I planned a related post. I was going to follow up with an essay spearing into the changing land use evident in the area that they covered, including trends that have emerged with new landowners in recent years. The name of the game now is carbon offsetting, with large tree planting schemes and wind farms on the agenda.
However, I don’t have the time or the mental energy this week to do justice to the research and writing required to address this topic fully. So instead I’m experimenting again and surprising myself (and possibly you too!) by sharing some poetry.
There are three poems below, all with a nature theme. I wrote them a few years ago and have been too busy or distracted with other things to write any fresh poems for a long while. Maybe if these receive a positive response, I will be encouraged to return my attention to listening for the muse. For it was murmurs from nature that led me to write these.
Cry of the Curlew has a poignant tone, reflecting the bird’s plaintive song while trying to capture the spirit of a bird1 that I now see much less often than when I wrote the words. Also the poem reflects my mood as I draft this post on Thursday, when my brother’s faithful 12-year-old labrador has just died.
The other two poems are more upbeat, driven by the sheer joy that contact with nature can inspire. I hope they serve as a reminder to us all to get outside every day and use our senses to experience the wonder of the natural world. Does nature inspire you to poetry? Or other creative forms?
Cry of the Curlew
Like a slipped record
Or a lost tune, starting
Over and over again, unable
To find the next note,
The curlew sails
Tight-reefed
Over the spilt mercury of the loch.
Slicing the wind
With down-curved beak
It tilts into a final glide,
Braced against yearning
That swells and wells beyond heartbreak,
Tumbles over the brink
And cascades towards sunless marshes.
Autumn Visitors
They always arrive unannounced:
perceived at first as the chatter of a distant crowd,
but growing louder until a silver sliver of excitement
pierces my heart as recognition dawns,
the geese are back!
Their yabber now overhead
I look up at the broken vee,
one bird out of place,
and losing pace, displacing
those behind like fallen dominoes.
Then, as if in a slow-motion conjuring trick
or a carefully choreographed dance,
the formation melts and reforms
with a new leader emerging from one wing,
while the rest sideslip to complete the pattern.
Taking a deep breath of delight,
I smell for the first time this year
the scents of autumn –
mushroom-dank earth and decaying leaves –
and taste the berry ice air on my tongue.
A few steps beyond the door, craning after
the fading sound, my bare feet sink
into the mossy cushion of dew-laden lawn
and a painful chill rises up my calves,
sending a judder of life through my veins.
Fulmar
Stiff winged wave glider,
sailing circuits
above broken cliffs.
Keen eyed wind rider,
slicing clean air
with sharp bladed wings.
Far ranging surf skimmer,
filling wild shores
with ceaseless movement.
Fast moving white glimmer,
watching one ledge
and soft feathered mate.
Grey backed sky ranger,
passing like storms
across the sun’s face.
Kind faced sea stranger
lifting spirits
with sheer wheeling joy.
Beautiful poems. I really enjoyed these!
I also like the phrase 'murmurs of nature' and live the dawn mist photo. Thankyou 🙏☺️
I enjoyed these Felicity. The melancholy of 'Cry of the Curlew'; the sheer joy of 'Autumn Visitors'; and the sharp form of 'Fulmar'. Thanks.