With the Turning of the Page!
Hurried is the flow of the morning wind as it brushes at my face,
With the falling of the call of autumn – the leaves upon its chase!
Under the cover of the racing cloud with its rippled range of greys,
Where the Mole he moves his mountains – along this path I call today’s!
With a low flying saunter the form of a Heron – casually wanders into view,
Skirting the Grove in the west from the north – to the south he moves on through!
There’s a clamour of Crow calls from up on the hill – climbing to the east,
Beyond the contorting moves of the windswept Willow – where the passion is increased!
The Silver Birch writhing in the swirl of the breeze – releasing yellow tainted leaves,
The bluster builds in a close crescendo – pulling hard upon the sleeves!
The wild Cherry blushes as it reddens – while the fruit trees they now undress,
Standing tall and proud as the outer circle opens – holding its leaves as to impress!
A collection of Pheasants make a meal of leaving – stumbling into the air,
From beside the pond beyond our border – behind the retiring Butterfly garden there!
The chatter of a Magpie chasing its forward companion – steering round the blows,
Through the crossfire of the competing winds – steady as she goes!
With the arrival of the expected guest – an inspection comes to pass,
A slow parade around the outer circle – with view-points from the grass!
And so the Samhain gate is dis-assembled – the work force on the case,
Restoration rules and dissolves the past – everything finds its place!
With a nod to the future we break our fast – exchanging’s to and fro,
Decisions made and relayed in action – what’s to stay and what’s to go!
What’s been and gone tied up in a bundle – ready to leave the stage,
With a new beginning at a time that fits with the turning of the page!
A gathering forms within the Moon Garden – to remark upon the Earth,
The shaping of the crescent from history – a continuum of our birth!
Raked with a clearing the shape is defined – highlighted in the white,
A darkling corner for trees and ferns – where day it meets the night!
The Robin sits with a sideways glance – with his watching every move,
Low in the branches of the old Crab Apple tree – where the ditch it cuts its groove!
With its re-incarnation a site for a bench – with a shelter of Alder Trees,
To dredge up the banks for shape and form – where the Moon Garden decrees!
The fallen tree in the hedge of the entrance path – where the brambles hold its lean,
Is tidied away with no hidden dangers – with an extraction to keep it clean!
Letting in the light and room for growth – the new begins its age,
Establishing its roots at a time that fits with the turning of the page!
With the growing spread of the swollen rain clouds – it gets dark before its time,
The heavy force of the forging winds – are rampant in their prime!
With a final moment spared for a sit and think – noting the recalls of the day,
Adjusting my backpack I find my focus – I prepare to make my way!
Following the Deer tracks along the side of the road – I casually take my leave,
With the cover of darkness hovering overhead – before the sunset I believe!
I stop to watch the Buzzards surfing – around the contours of the hills,
Before a deep booming roar with the call of the wind – with a bracing howl of chills!