Where are you? 

Are you wandering 

the moors 

of your mind 

all alone? 

I am at the Grange 

feeling a little deranged 

from the madness

close to home. 

Let me in,

to the hearth 

of your heart,

so we can slow dance,

into the twilight.

https://youtu.be/tcPrv_6jhRk

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Before the engulfing darkness sets in.. 
Before the light dims and the night begins.. 
Before the oblivion finds its definite course.. 
Before the lassitude creeps in and endorse.. 
Before the thriving psyche is lulled to sleep.. 
Before the courage gives up to climb high and steep.. 
Let the entrancing twilight be the time to rejoice  .
To chase dreams and pay regard to that solemn inner v...

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An almost mystic silence

descends on the lambent, lamb bent,

lamb bobbing fields

as the West sinking sun

leaves an early evening light,

the day has almost passed:

the bright pale green of the new larch buds

the rusty pink brown of the budding almond

the gold of a burgeoning dog wood

are set against

the solid darkness of a solitary fir tree

the soft clouds in a...

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I survey the beauty of the lake
in the Spring evening sunshine.
In a far-off corner the rippling
of the water reveals a silent breeze,
while the liquid surface before me
retains its silent harmony.

The bursts of bird song
fill the twilight space,
while in the distance
a goose lets out its harsh cry,
and the call of the grebe,
and the silence of the swan
fill the half-light.

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When the night doth come, weary follows distantly. 

Toiling farther from the dawn with each passing sunset, offers not the distraction so sought out by its woeful captor.

With worried mind and worried soul and yearning for slumber. Not for rest, but for release. 

Relentless is the repeat of ruminating reasoning. Soul wrenching speculation scews sensibility, until slowly and sluggishly sle...

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breathing in the dusk

bonfire permeates failing light
on this humid August night
midges cloud the air in flight
amassing as they dance and bite

the ghostly moon yet to rise
haunts the pale indigo skies
a rook upon a wire cries
failing breath as summer dies

heavy mist on stubbled corn
scarecrow’s jacket ripped and torn
path to orchard frayed and worn
twilight bleeds across the law...

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