james thomas watts a forest glade in bettws-y-coed, north wales
falling and tumbling
like sackcloth angels
their faces
no longer turned to the sky
earthbound they glide
on dry-veined wings
eyes wide
mouth’s open
singing
autumn’s plainsong
from branch
to forest floor
i watch their return
to the inside
of the coil
the helix
that stands outside of time
the dance
without a drummer
the coil rewound
from life to rebirth
i see their pursed ochre lips
kissing
the frosted forehead
of autumn’s becoming
as i lose my self
in the eyes
of an ice-gilded pond
edward wilkins waite the end of autumn
singing
ReplyDeleteautumn’s plainsong
Mmmm ... in a nutshell!
'sackcloth angels' - I'll carry those words all day now, steven.
ReplyDeleteThanks.
I'll remember this vision of leaves, and return to it, like the inside of the coil of the helix.
ReplyDelete"i see their pursed ochre lips
ReplyDeletekissing the frosted forehead of autumn’s becoming"
Pure bliss. Wonderful images, too.
wow, is that first picture a painting?
ReplyDeleteI would love to hear Welsh words spoken someday - the spelling is so intriguing and there are some words I haven't the foggiest how they would sound!
ReplyDeletejinksy - nutshell. hmmmm. perhaps that's what is in it for the squirrels and chipmunks. steven
ReplyDeletetitus - you're welcome of course! steven
ReplyDeleteruth - i like to wander back through the golden fish archives for a feel of the time. steven
ReplyDeletewillow - i'm so happy to share the pure bliss with you!! steven
ReplyDeleteellen - they are both paintings yes. check the credits underneath each one. google the names. see more and better!!! steven
ReplyDeletegolden west - it's a beautiful lyrical language. visit wales and hear it for yourself. steven
ReplyDelete