In photographs you’d say

 In photographs you’d say 

In photographs you’d say, our days were spent together

round one table or another 

eating and drinking, beer, cerveza, orange juice and wine, pink or white 

and favourite tapas feature too, patatas bravas of course 

chiperones, garlic prawns, bounty from the sea

which rolled and crashing, broke in soothing rhythm 

ceaseless 

in all the colours of my new ring 

shades of turquoise, teal, in opals caught. 

Nine well-spent euros for a parasol

to make the high white,  bright sun bearable 

sea so salt we floated free, gossiping in a circle, no handbags 

wedding ring not lost 

blue fish flashing silver 

Marek snorkelling pursued by balloon, bobbing. 

To the lighthouse for our Japanese treat, mediated by Beverley 

who knows about such things, delicious 

strange cribbage board with pegs

and sun setting over our bay, in tangerine. 

After which a storm, spectacular, with lightning forked and sheet

plus subsequent downpour drenching the walkers. 

In photographs you’d say our days were spent together 

Costa Brava interlude, chatter and laughter, stunned by beauty 

and love, our friendship priceless beyond rubies 

celebrating. 

September 19th 2022, Llafranc and Hounoux, for beloved friends 

Staring past Orion

Staring past Orion  

On the night of the at first slow rising 

numinous, low in the south east

full and orange

enchantment 

floating just above the pin parasol 

the few lit  windows of Bellegarde 

a saturated sky veiled the stars 

so Perseid showers shot by unseen 

though he waited head-tilted, staring past Orion 

Hounoux 12th August 2022 

Like summer rain

 Like summer rain 

Early awake as the dawn is pinking

peach in streaks in the lovely light 

hurrah for the gentler warmth I’m thinking 

instead of the sweat of the high sun’s might

all earth’s creatures frazzled, shrinking 

impossible day and tropical night 

my soul’s sapped and sinking sinking 

fretting the future, the planet’s plight. 

But in the dear day’s glamorous dawning

artist tinting the window pane

I find the poet’s ‘New every morning’

Take heart she says, begin again 

and salve for the fevered frights and warnings 

her words of hope like summer rain

30th July 2022, Hounoux, on reading Susan Coolidge, ‘New every morning’ 

Sounding the alarm

 Sounding the alarm 

There’s a warning loud in the air today 

garden slowly crisping curled, ungreening 

where the sun’s ferocious flattening the large-leaved 

hydrangeas, Christmas rose gasping

even the sages struggling, the sparrows silenced 

cacophony not after all ceaseless 

when the thermometer’s dreadfully high

the heatwave graphics fire-engine red 

barely a merciful breeze 

all will sapped 

cicada chorus buzzing louder louder 

sounding the alarm 

July 13th 2022,Hounoux. 

A spell to bind me

 

A spell to bind me 

From under the spread of the olive tree

its sturdy limbs’ fine canopy 

the world reduced to greens and blues 

skies and oceans cooler hues 

I thought of Marvell’s luscious ode

of green on green in mystic mode 

annihilating, as he wrote, all that’s made 

to a green thought in a green shade 

and understood the poet’s meaning 

when all the world’s a dream of greening. 

Between the earth and thrush egg sky 

heedless poised to float or fly 

midsummer bliss a solstice gift 

a spell to bind me as I drift 

July 3rd 2022, Hounoux, on reading Marvell and Charles Causely  

Petrichor moment

Petrichor moment 

All day my hand has yearned for pen on untouched page 

to spill the words in circle-dancing 

linked and spinning, whoop and twirl. 

Odd, for the day’s a leaden ghost, still statue 

in spite  of midsummer solstice, uninspired 

silent save the ceaseless sparrows

but suddenly a thunder grumble lightening flash 

and at long last drip  and splash 

soft raindrop patter / blessed scent of petrichor 

for all the breathless land baked hard 

is soothed and soaked splash and gush 

lush and lovely 

the longed-for sweet relief, the rain 

June 22nd 2022 Hounoux 

Entirely golden

 Entirely golden 

On the hill’s height perched, tall house 

where the sea salts the air 

parasol pines on rocks and sand, cover the land 

dense, and everywhere a birdsong cacophony 

sparrow warbler nightingale, hoopoe hoops 

sometimes swifts as they swoop squealing 

such speed by name and nature, sickles 

sea and sky blue on darker blue 

Pugwash sea monster become an island, petrified. 

Nine of us together, family’s oldest to youngest

splash and dive, ping pong, pool 

pizza paella pasta 

anniversary entirely golden 

forever blessèd souvenir. 

June 3rd 2022, Begur, Spain