Thoughts on Public Transport
Pewsey Hills
mist of Vale rising
unclothing hills of ivory
revealing glory
Wroughton
Over
Wrought
On
The
Bus
The Train Cuckoo
In the Reserved seats,
elsewhere by fate diverted,
invisible men;
weather, lover’s bed or grave?
What cares the cuckoo for why?
by Gail
‘Harvest’
reproduced with permission ©Oliver Freeman
http://www.oliverfreeman.me.uk/
this poem was inspired by the powerful images
of nature and decay; of beauty and desolation
in Oliver Freeman’s art
Catabolic Grace
*
land undulating
in to rolling furrows ploughed
defiant decay
waste of catabolic grace
dross in to gold in to dross
*
at the seasons edge
green waves, shining muddy rills
euphoric rising
flower painted battlefields
gold in to dross in to gold
*
by Gail
gailfromdevizes 