Snowflakes drop a blanket
like Christmas at Easter.
Three vain Narcissus
Woo with their gold,
ice-encased.
Calendar demands
teeth
Tears with each snap.
Acidic stomach, head throbs,
last night’s wine.
Dreamt I could fly.
Felt so real.
Why wake up?
Morning report:
dead crow on the road
would not leave the kill.
Snow displacing sun,
a white lie;
birds sing, go away, go away,
sittin...

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I have been posting poems during lockdown based on the concept taken from a much earlier poem called 'Cycle Of The Scarecrow' a fantasy piece which tells the tale of a scarecrow who is brought back to life by a witch and walks the fields of Albion. It is a reflection on the changing seasons and of growing old - and the premise of 'what if I had my time again?
It was released today as a digital do...

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The Raising Of The Trickster

When the western sky turns slowly into the colour of an old bruise

And the last orange streaks of daylight bleed from the setting sun

A cold white vapour swirls through the fields of corn its fingers prising apart the stalks

As the lands of Albion darken and strange noises start to crawl from the mist.

At the edge of the fields there sprawls a ...

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Damnation Trail

Through forests dark and shadowed vale

He follows the damnation trail

Along the river’s twisted course

Through bracken thick and clutching gorse

The ancient path cut through the land

He walks with devil’s hand in hand

And where his steps flatten the crops

No more will grow the wheat and hops

For he has footsteps cast in death

He steals the fa...

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Corruption

Here in the verdant meadows

All on a summer’s day

The dreaded army of the dark

Met with the noble fey

They fought until the long sundown

And the lost blood of the dead

Soaked into the sacred ground

And turned the roses red

When the fight was over

And the legion of the flies

Had swarmed across the corpses

Stealing hope from sightless eyes

...

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Crow Lore

We sit and watch the world go by

On fences long and oak trees high

The waxing moon the setting sun

We are the crows of Albion

We chronicle the human ways

Their restless nights and confused days

Mother, daughter, father, son

We are the crows of Albion

Our stories written down in books

Guarded well by crows and rooks

And no one knows what we ...

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Prophecy

The crows tell of the walking man

Who travels fields by day and night

The walking man who’s not a man

Who strides between the dark and light

Soulless, cursed to stumble through

The endless hedgerows of the land

He wished for life but walks in death

He is the sweet prince of the damned

The hares and rabbits run from him

The fox and wolf walk by ...

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Lazarus Curse

I trudge across these ancient lands

Where crops are reared by human hands

And all I leave are footsteps deep

a crop the scythe will never reap

I see the changing seasons turn

The new shoots grow, bonfires burn

From the soil the world will grow

I track the sacred rivers flow

These things of beauty pass me by

I have no soul I cannot die

F...

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Resurrected

Down here where the beetles crawl

Where the leaves of autumn fall

A spider’s web of veins uncoil

To animate the resurrected

Sap permeates the ancient heart

A life’s blood for another start

Coursing through the body

Of the newly resurrected

Orbs of light spark into eyes

The keening of a newborn’s cries

Escapes the brittle twisted lips

T...

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