White pillows


White pillows

Float into hollows, nooks

And burrows.

Aspen and willow,

Stark, dark: sinister

Whispering sharp wind

Billows.

Lichen hillocks.

Holly and blackthorns

Creak under laden leaves

Dripping icy nature’s tea.

Flirty flurries settle on warm cheeks

And tiny beaks.

Woodland Wildlife seeks solace

From fizzing blizzards.

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Winter finds


Winter lakeside:

Grey pools binding

With silver speckled rinds;

Threads and reeds surfing

Across leafy waves,

Warmed by gentle waves.

Winter is hanging on, but I like its inky beauty and sparkling surprises.

Bright and warm


Shoots produding,

Shiny Buds swelling,

Pussy willow a silver sensation!

Petals waxy, honey sweet.

Catkins like knitted fingers;

Golden rays warming

Our hearts on cold days;

Winter walks


January’s lamp black trees

Dripping tears.

Weeping tangled larches

Tickling lichen bark;

Crows huddled in puddles,

Riddles in ink blotted dark skies.

Welly prints in sticky mud;

Children dropping crumbs

From winter tarts.





Happy New Year! Stride out on winter walks, feeling crisp air brushing your cheeks. Stop and listen to the birds. Watch the wintery dark tree branches dancing in bracing wind. Welcome January! 

Golden moments


Golden moments:

Crisp early morning walks

Bathed in energising light,

Playful companionship,

Remembered paths.

Autumnal veil



A veil gently falls,

Groaning, hollow seedheads reach,

Dark shifts crystal ball.
I haven’t written a Haiku for a long while. It’s simpl

Rambling in the Fairy wood


In the Fairy Wood a cool wind sings

Songs of summer past: Larks and cherry blossoms

Rambling roses for fairy posies.

Speckled yellow, ruby and rust leaves swirl,

Crunching under toes.

Dappled light, warm and bright Iilluminates

 faces of forest mythological creatures,

A shadow show emerging; tree nymphs, Boris the troll

And frolocking fairies.

Brooding skies like galloping waves, 

Tallow mallow ggiant’s fists!

Twisters suck up golden mists.

Poppy walk


Sunny morning,

Swifts soaring;

Dog rose scented air.

Maiden’s garlands,

wedding bells afar.

Harebells & summer fairs

Dancing campions,

Wild flower champion

The scarlet poppy!

Dreaming of Bluebells


I dream about being in a bluebell woodland,

Morning’s dampness on my hands.

I find a torn seam in elemental’s veil;

Ask to enter the precious trail.



Bare toes tickling on grassy moss, 

Nose wrinkling as plumes of bluebells waft;

Lost in a deep purple blue lake,


Looking at the shapes the old oak makes,

Their wizened branches seeking light,

Orange tip butterflies flee with all their might!


Woodland’s serenade fades gently like a breeze;

I take a sip of Titania’s tea,

Finding myself mixing a pool of morning dew

With soothing dainty hues from the bluebell wood

on my watercolour palette ready for a new painting to emerge.