The summer sun has stirred your seeds, hatred
A bitter wind blows through the weeds, hatred
Go pour another beer. Pick up a stone
Whoever shouts the loudest leads hatred
All blood is red. All children are our own
One love. Not everybody bleeds hatred
Brave in a crowd but coward when alone
At work, at home, nobody heeds hatred
Go snort a line. Pick up a traffic cone
All boys together. Hatred breeds hatred
Your country back? No country I have known
Here be all races and all creeds, hatred
Your flag is upside down, mate, and your tone
Is strident, hun. Hey, unmet needs, hatred?
There will be harvest when the weeds are mown
Love conquers all, love supercedes hatred
Call me a snowflake. Woke as to the bone
And God alone will judge our deeds, hatred
© Gail Foster 3rd August 2024
Harvest
Mother Autumn
for Anna
and for Rosemary, Joan, and Janette
*
I see my Mother, now the swans have flown
As summer falling sweetly from the vine
In fading shades of blossom turned to wine
In seas of corn from seeds of springtime grown
I sense her in the scents of roses blown
In twilight glades as day and night entwine
At sunrise, in the mist of morning’s shine
On drops of blood of berries on the stone
…
I see my Mother, standing on the hill
Beneath Orion as he turns the year
I see her grieve for me all winter till
The new born leaves and flowers reappear
As I will, Mother, as I always will
Return to where I came from, Mother dear
*
© Gail Foster 22nd September 2017
Here, Again; The Autumn Equinox
This poem was written for the Avebury Gorsedd; 24th September 2016
for everyone who was there, and for those who were not…
*
I’m here, again…
Come riding in, upon the western wave
My hair all wove with golden leaves, my breast
As pale as moonlight on a hidden grave
And all the sins of summer long confessed
…
I come, again…
In sweeping skirts, with white swan feathers strewn
To brush the summer dust from weary grass
Make ash of aspen, damp the flame of noon
Before the frost freeze water into glass
…
I bring, to you…
Windfallen apples, berries from the hedge
Long shadows on the barrows, and the chalk
Wild winds to stir the willows and the sedge
And mist, and myth, down every path you walk
…
I’m here, again…
The promise of the harvest to fulfil
The energy of autumn, streaming through
The swirling springs that spiral round the hill
To drench the land in red and russet hue
…
I come, again…
Between the longest day and shortest night
To fill the blood and marrow of your bones
With all the orange glory of the light
Before the dark descend upon the stones
…
I bring, to you…
A cornucopia of ripened fruit
Dark juices of the vine in bottles bright
To nourish soul and body, to transmute
Your thought to dream, your dream to second sight
…
For I am She…
Am Autumn writ, in every field and tree
Am mistress of the Owl and running Hare
So yield unto my kiss, and blesséd be
And dance with me, oh Druid, if you dare…
*
@ Gail Foster 23rd September 2016
bromham fields
*
autumn rainbows stripe
vegetable september
across bromham fields;
roundway island, hazed in mist
on a marrow orange sea
…
wiltshire sunbeams fall
gold on the cockle pickers
green fields, fishermen;
down fruit littered ditches glint
glitter strewn rivers of light
*
© Gail Foster September 16th 2016
Desist; a ghazal
*
Shatter glass, spit out your bay, desist
Lustful dogs who bark and bay, desist
…
Cold as silver shadows list on stone
Sun’s last ray and heat of day desist
…
Oracles insist, and dead men know
Luck and fickle lovers may desist
…
Words upon the wind; I told you this
Take your magic, walk away, desist
…
Time to reap the harvest you have sown
Silence, let your mournful lay desist
…
Scry no more, lest death thy mirror kiss
Havoc, all the angels say, desist
…
Madness, this, to love by will alone
Yield the ghost, Felicia; pray desist!
*
© Gail Foster 2016
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