Category Archives: Azores

Flying

Flying over cities is glorious
London’s furnace reaching for the sky
The nested curving of Amsterdam canals

England on Guy Fawkes Night
Firework chrysanthemums blooming upwards
Colouring the belly of the plane

Shimmering ice dazzling in the cockpit
So many planes alongside
Taking the polar route

Diverting around a war zone
Noting shell bursts far to portside
Glamorously frightening

Heading out across the Atlantic
Passing over container shipping
Waiting for Azorean volcanoes on the horizon

The miracle of heavy flight
Watching Jumbos lumber into the air
Carrying hopes and dreams

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Broken Cable

In the middle of the bright Atlantic
Floating on the swell between island volcanoes
Beneath reflective surface tension
Silvered gas bubbles catch the light
And, across the issuing rift
A long snake of data cable
Broken sheared twisted

As the gas breaks the surface
We hear voices
Blogs bubbling to the top
Instructions to buy or sell
A thousand tiny voices
Sparkling in the sunshine
Several parrot fish swim by
Next day when snorkeling
I fancy I hear fish blogging

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond

This poem was published by the wonderful Helen Ivory on Ink, Sweat and Tears:  http://www.inksweatandtears.co.uk/pages/?p=12491

There are never enough photos of Pico

There are never enough photos of Pico
Says he, as he takes yet one more
The light has changed again
And the mountain looks about to roar
We’ve flown over and around her
Driven along her lower slopes
But the best view is away from her
From little Horta’s shore

The mountain slumbers on
Fuji slopes gracefully curving down
She glows rose in the dawns light
By midday she can glower and frown
Clouds drape her and embrace her
Shadowing scree and walled-in grapevine
However far we travel away from her
Somehow that volcano is always mine

Copyright © 2015 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Re-blogged from 2015, about my favourite mountain, Mount Pico in the Azores.

Dreaming

Large green leaves lean lushly
against crater walls
palm trees and pines jostle for space

Flowery grasses spotted with inevitable hydrangeas
(blue invaders of our hearts)
line the dirt road  to the vent

At the carved curving stairs
our descent into a dreaming volcano
begins

Fumes fill noses and heads
Hades once writhed here
and scents it’s promise of return

Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Another poem inspired by a visit to Furna do Enxofre, an empty magma chamber on Graciosa island in the Azores. Empty of magma, not fumes….

…the painting is my own, and one of several of the vent….

Magma Cave

Shards of rock lie  silent
as ferns lean toward the sun
along the sides of the great vent
cut into a perfect dome above
sulphur from a tepid celadon lake
fills the air

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond

From a visit to Furna do Enxofre, an empty magma chamber on Graciosa island in the Azores. Empty of magma, not fumes….

…the painting is my own, and one of several of the vent….

Whaling Boat

Cleaving through the waves
Slender, fragile
A wooden sailing boat
Races its kindred
In the regatta
Brought back to life and beauty
Restored to some use
But not the original fatal one
Man against beast
Hand launched harpoon
Against the deep diving leviathan
A dreadful trade
Forged in harsh necessity
Killing Whales and men
In this isolated archipelago
As the boat  turns into the wind
A bright Orange speeder passes close
Bouncing from wave to wave
Full of tourists
Out to hunt whales
With their cameras

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond