Lady’s Mead

Down winter’s lane to flooded field Over decaying style in shielding catch-thorn There’s treacle ooze where footsteps tread All the way to the water-meadow pond Overgrown by years and by many forgotten So come again thoughts of times bygone In this place dense with hushed saxon echo Whispers from beneath the lush hoof earth Perhaps [...]


Polar Low

Polar Low Creeps at first Down long country spine Chills in silence The frost-rust iron Shrinking all In spreading freeze Capping slow waters With gathering breeze Squeezing isobars Invisible to measure To quicken the pace Of its raw biting pleasure Howls in delight In rallying procession Through twisting tree Over hunkered objection Birds take refuge [...]

Cold Morning Lane

In the far distant south-east First light on the ridgeline grey Burns back the cataract mist-veil Condensed in a night's cold bay And so forged under inkspread dark Of the velvet-void's dim crescent Spread low on the heels of mid-arc To plunge hidden valleys incessant Cold morning lane wakes slow In the gloop of year-end [...]

December Again

Winter's artic-born wind Whistles inside to rush the sucking flames Eager to charge and to burn in the kindling fire... Or powerless to resist But her now flaming June scorch-quickened breath... Ascends rapidly yet cools so quickly To be torn south by the ice queen's north howl To be December again   © Frank Finley