Form
doesn’t always follow function
Beauty
cannot always be seen
Love
is hardly ever symmetrical
Copyright © 2022 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Category Archives: beauty
Ammonites
Walking east across the beach
boulders and rocks littered
as if discarded playthings.
Each contains treasures
some already spilt out
glistening traceries of lives past
revealed after aeons of hiding.
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
On the hill watching sunset
two figures and a blanket
tall dry grasses whispering
as light fades in the west
and shadows fold around them
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Northern light
Blue Baltic waters
semi-sweet to taste
Pale rose rocked islands
Rising softly from the sea
And oh
Oh
All those Birches
So many Birch trees
tall straight trunks
massing on every surface
White wrapped
Or black inked?
Design icons
Bearing thin scrolls of bark
whose paleness
reflected summers northern light
into grateful eyes
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
For John Looker
Friday Poem: She Walks in Beauty
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent.
by Lord Byron
Surround yourself with beauty
Surround yourself with beauty
Look at what you own
Is it beautiful or loved?
Does it give you pleasure?
Does it embody a memory?
Keep it
Possessions need to work for you
Need to lift you
Need to remind you who you are
Designer labels? Latest high tech? Do you need to follow the herd?
I sit in a room with books I love and want
With photos of those I love
With objects and art that say something to me
All bought on a shoestring
Possessions do not define me, they cannot say who I am
My poetry attempts that
But my possessions comfort me
my attempt to surround myself in beauty.
Copyright © 2015 Kim Whysall-Hammond
A Rainbow Octopus
Not the poetry of words, but certainly the poetry of motion. A stunning video of a Rainbow Octopus from Aesthesiamag :
More info: NAD-Lembeh.com | Facebook | YouTube
In a short clip captured during a blackwater night dive in the Lembeh Strait, a blanket octopus unfolds and displays a colorful web multiple times her original size. The aquatic animal’s iridescent body and tentacles glow against the nighttime water before she releases her translucent blanket that connects her dorsal and dorsolateral arms. Only adult females are equipped with the lengthy membrane that reaches as long as six feet and dwarfs male octopi, which are less than an inch in size and most often die immediately after mating. Generally, the females only unfurl their color-changing blankets to appear larger and more intimidating to potential predators. Shared by NAD Lembeh Resort, the underwater video was taken on a RED Gemini with a 50 millimeter Zeiss Macro lens. You might also want to check out this footage of a blanket octopus in waters near…
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Summer’s loss
Heart broken she withdraws
as every winter
into dark soil
as every winter
The promise of the stars nightly turning
the sinking and turning of constellations
the track of planets wandering across the sky
say that she will return
Time past she was encouraged
by midwinter fires
now we trust to orbital mechanics
Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Chalklands
Chalk undulates across Southern England
Hills, gentle yet steep
Can be overtopped by clay peppered with flints
So treasured by the old folk
As old as the hills is true here
The chalk is a two hundred million year ocean
Stiffened and folded over time
By our living planet
Several human species
Have hunted in these valleys
Have dug into and sculpted these hills
Have left their ghosts for us to trace
The ancient monuments we treasure
Hill forts, stone circles, long barrows
Are but modern remnants
Compared to the first folk
My hills have deep roots
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Standing on Dunkery
Any hill will do
They all are sacred, but
Dunkery at twilight
As mist seeps up from
Purple heather
Horizons broaden out
And valleys settle into shadow
Sheep bleat, asking for their land back
But we walk the broad path
To a scattered mound of stone
Skirting nervous wild ponies
As the sun paints them golden
Ponies never ask, it is always theirs
As it belonged to the mound builders
Five thousand years ago
As it belongs
And doesn’t belong
To us all
But especially tonight
To me and mine
Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Written in response to this weeks EarthWeal challenge “Sacred Landscapes“. Exmoor is very special and it’s highest point, Dunkery Beacon, even more so.
The Cheesesellers Wife 