14 Dec 2015


The sky was near, hard and the colour of slate,
I felt I could swing a sledge hammer to crack it open
and find a calm ethereal blue sky underneath  

A mighty cypress still fully swathed in deep dark green
stood defying the raw winter cold amongst bare, crooked
and haggard trees

Pink and purple cyclamens bright and flamboyant
blooming and flowering  ferociously in a season of
wilting, dullness and death

Water came pouring down from the slate grey sky,
a bewildering miracle failing to enthrall anyone at all.