THE HOGMOOR INCLOSURE ROMAN WALK

Just for a change from poetry, I thought I'd share with you a walk around my local area...

The entrance to the Roman Walk.

A close-up of the information panel.

A Roman Centurion's helmet (carved from wood).

A selection of carved wooden figures that are non gender specific and so denote the equality of the human race. They also embody a mixture of all races on Earth.

And, finally, the Canadian Memorial...located on the site of the old garrison church.

I hope you enjoyed...xxx


Hi guys, just to let you know I am taking a short break from blogging. I have more tests  coming up, plus we are celebrating our 40th Anniversary, so I am going to be really busy over the next week or so.
In the meanwhile...happy blogging...
and I will "see" you all again soon! xxx





 

SPRING EQUINOX

I have peeled back the petals of a daffodil
in search of the season's essence,
and walked the circumference of a Fairy Ring
where the beginning returns to itself
beneath a ray of cold sun.

I have become one with the springtime:
the hail, the strong winds and pounding rain;
the dancing hyacinths;
the fernworks of ice on windows
that seal me inside my tomb
of misted rooms

from which I'm forced to observe the changes -
pigeons billing and cooing on cabin roof,
the smell of pollen from the amaryllis, the smell of cold
and the black mold that lurks in dark corners
of the bathroom, like the last dying strands
of winter's DNA.

The town lies beyond my garden in a pocket of promising sunlight,
and beyond that tall pines touch the sky -
as if other incarnations of myself
(familiar and unknown) embedded in their eras
as I am now in mine, standing here before this open window
and breathing renewed life
into the slumbering Souls of bluebells.

SNAPSHOT

For Checo ...

A moment captured in time, taken
to commorate celebrations to come
by someone far, far away
who is willing you to victory.

You could say it is a talisman, a magic spell,
a kind of thought-form shaped like you
in your car, taking first place trophy
on the podium down in Adelaide.

Pink carbon fibre and titanium, edged in deep blue,
shimmering with magical stardust: less an idle wish,
more electrical magnetism conjured up
to propel you through the pack.

It's all here in visual format - and in these eyes.
Not just vague hope, but force of will:
my mind to your mind, a strengthening of certainty
of what this year absolutely will bring!

CASTLES

You had an aversion to castles. Castles! 
Those magnificent structures that I so adore. The spiral staircases,
the gloomy dungeons, the moss-covered crumbling
stone walls - all bored you. History lessons at your school
must have omitted the study of castles and their architecture,
boiling oil tipping and screams of would-be be invaders.
You failed to appreciate their histories, so your Soul was devoid
of the fascination, and their aura of brooding stillness
made your eyes glaze over with total disenchantment.
I bought you a guide book once, and you accepted it
reluctantly. An obviously unwanted gift.
You skimmed briefly over it's print and diagrams,
while trying hard to appear interested, yet failing dismally -
your gaze with longing eyes toward the exit gate was a dead giveaway.
It was so obvious you would much rather be somewhere else!
But, for my sake, you joined me for the guided tour,
all the while enthusiastically informing me of the motoring event
you'd attended the previous weekend, where you'd purchased
your latest pride and joy, an Aston Martin Vanquish.
Oh how your face lit up then, as you stared off into the distance
and appeared to forget that I, or our present location
even existed. Castles were a dreary chore to you:
were the archetypes of antiquated pointlessness
that I was forever dragging you around, these blots
on the landscape that held no value whatsoever,
apart from within archeological circles.
To you they were trifles probably, subjects that fell way below
the intellectual level of your Mercurial mindset.
Castles were things you wanted to sidestep at all costs.
And they were growing ever more synonymous with me.
But I saw you mounted upon a white stallion, complete with shining armour,
beneath a full moon in the cobbled courtyard:
an over-romanticised figure riding towards me,
girlhood's dream wish fulfilment - although grossly out of character for you
who were most likely still musing over Aston Martins
and your ideal scenarios, so very adverse to mine.
Well, there could only be one conclusion, couldn't there...
me,
wandering endlessly around my beloved relics
without you.