The winter frost calls
As memories of spring fade,
Autumn breeze beckons

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The cold winter air whistles melodically

A gentle breeze sneaks past my fingers

Blue Lipped

Frozen Feet 

Teary eyed

Memories of autumn spring forth

So close yet so far away

Teddy coat wearers scattered across the London fog

AirPods in, walking briskly

Listening to my favourite tunes 

Not trying to blend in 

Just learning to be

Realising that happiness is free

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An ghaoth aduaidh bíonn sí crua,

Is cuireann sí gruaim ar dhaoine,

An ghaoth aneas bíonn sí tais,

Is cuireann sí rath ar shíolta,

An ghaoth anoir bíonn sí tirim,

Is cuireann sí sioc istoíche,

An ghaoth aniar bíonn sí fial,

Is cuireann sí iasc i líonta.

The north wind is hard,

And it depresses people,

The south wind is damp,

And...

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a walk at Robert Frost’ old farm

heavy snow was falling

as I walked the New Hampshire

woods of Robert Frost’ old farm

I had been here before

in the fall when

the leaves were splashes

of color hanging on the branches

now the leaves were gone

the snow was resting

where the leaves had been

in the distance I

caught a glimpse of movement

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At dusk

a pink moon

low over the sheds

in a cold clear sky -

ice blue, yet light

hiding stars

a leaf fall

the pond water stills

but does not freeze

Much later

that same moon

lights my bedroom

in the cold night air -

velvet black, the sky

glints stars

an owl flash

my blood chills

but does not freeze

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When the wind blows
And the snow starts to fall
And the sun is nowhere to be seen
When the skies are all grey
And the temperature plummets
And the morning frost lays like a blanket
The best place to be is a pub by the fire
With family and friends and our lovers
With great conversation and music 
Much laughter to lighten the mood
We can shut out the cold uninviting
And enjoy this brief i...

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The empty stems of the fennel

Under umbrella heads of raindrops

Are perches for the waiting birds

The grey green sage leaves

Glow crystal white in the frost

Moss grows where the branch

Leaves the trunk of the bonsai

Its ruddy leaves falling

Amongst the yellowing leaves

A single crimson rose bud perishes

Yellow leaves have fallen from the dogwood

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In the long small hours of dark                 Through the later time of darkness

I pause and gaze out at the stars              As we lay entwined beneath the moon

Somehow the frosted ground                    The nightly scene now sacred

Sharpens the air and the starlight             Welcomes the soft moonglow

Which lights my very soul:                        Entering both...

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Distant chill and early morning

Rising in the cold

The car's all frozen thawing slowly

Where’s my woolly scarf?

The radios drones on with a weather warning

And I’m shivering in the cold

The kettle seems to be taking ages

The toast is taking its time

Where’s the butter and marmalade?

It’ll be cold today, I’m told

Gloved and scarved, scraper in ...

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