Secret, as a seal

Secret, as a seal

Secret, as a seal somersaulting

the not-yet-born, not fully formed

swims, turns and churns

revealed in ripples, wind across the dunes, waves furrowing the sand

a poke of hand or foot, head as battering-ram.

Not yet a creature of the air, before the gulp and blink

no oxygen, no light

mysterious as after-life, she swims

filling the hours until her cue is called

her book is opened,

‘Once upon a time..’

and  Self set ticking like a clock

her lovely tale begun.

29th November 2012, Hounoux

 

Tractors for a brush

Tractors for a brush

At every turn a masterpiece, a poem’s opening line,

whole verses fully formed,

colour line  and composition

oil or watercolour, applied by genius hand

or not

just how the land evolves.

Peaks and crags and rolling foothills

etched or smoothed, hues of blue that touch the sky

the ancient frame that bounds, here, the hexagon

an edge of France

this land the peasants loving, till and furrow,

tractors for a brush

though sometimes onions one by one, handed in the soil

next year’s promise, olive green, blue-grey

creamy seed heads, beautifully ranged.

November earth bare, basking, all the glorious shades

ochre, orange, russet, dun

and on the wires, vigilant

feathers fluffed

buzzards watch and wait.

Fieldfares scatter, flustered, as I pass

across the sky a line of rooks

perfect

finishing touch.

November 17th 2012, Hounoux. 

On a large poster in the depths of the Aude, 'Les agriculteurs vous offrent ce paysage'. With gratitude to the farmers of the Languedoc. 

Cosmos in a glass

Cosmos in a glass

You asked me, Susan, if I know

how the poems come,

what’s the germ, the genesis

initial sprouting seed?

{This a propos of sketchbook work for visual memory and prompt

one day might spring to life, say

witch’s fingers ribbed along a shell, skeletal

or cosmos in a glass)

And now mid pastel-drawing, (cosmos in a glass)

understanding dawns

re all those months of art with you, the smell of paraffin

creative fug in studio Guillonet

or summer days on sun-hot patio for lunch

(plus crémant liberally)

but most of all the look and look!

Draw just what you see-

the life you opened up for me

kingdom’s keys

eyes and hands and confidence to make  my marks

my own

first steps into the right side

going with the flow, a dance with creativity.

More precious far than diamonds, teacher’s gift

the footpath to the hidden gate, now wide and flung for me

a secret garden, verbal push,

encouragement to go

first steps into the right side, dancing with the flow,

where art and verse and inspiration pulse like oxygen

and magic, glorious, random

who knows how?

The lovely seedlings grow.

17th November 2012, Hounoux, for Susan Keverne