What the Sundial Said

HDR sundial

Why wait for Summer

While the seconds tick away?

Inhale this moment,

Teach your lungs to breathe Today.

‘Now’ is something fragile,

A gift that never lasts;

Every second precious,

For soon it’s called the Past.

What She’s Learning

moody blush

She nods and smiles while heart-strings snap,

Frozen by the frost of pain;

Hunkers down and marches onward,

Shoulders stiff with hidden strain.

She knows the winter fast approaches,

Days which promise death to bloom –

But heaven holds her Autumn splendour,

Hope that springs despite the tomb.

Wait For Me

autumn slough


Wait for me at water’s edge,

Where Autumn meets the sky,

Where trees in wigs stretch sapless twigs

And watch the geese fly by.


Wait for me where harvest hides,

Where Wind paints reveries,

Where evenings slip with frosty grip

By picturesque degrees.


Wait for me where Time stands still,

Where seasons wax and wane,

Where Dew withdraws from icy paws

‘Til only earth remains.


Lord of the Wheel

Lupine waterdrop


And the circle, unbroken,

turns. Wheel within a wheel, spring

rotates through greening hillsides,

iris flags and rhubarb pie,

driving into summer dressed

its berry-best for wedding

parties beneath cathedral

skies. Autumn, bent heavy with

harvest-heaps of golden grain,

labours to gather itself

in. When winter’s wheel lets Earth

put up snowy feet, tired from

her annual production,

spinning slows, hibernating

heartbeat lulling all to rest.

Each intersects with its mate,

drawing one to its death, one

to its birth; each turn reveals

a sliver, an iota,

one grain more of its Master.