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
Delicious dampness, fresh scented grey,
Washing the stuffy warm weather away
My soul is a sponge, expanding when wet,
And sunshine’s a word I’d rather forget,
I like the newness of autumn (but its only July!)
The soggy clean clouds that fill up the sky
Change is the thing, after two weeks the same,
Filled with humid hot weather –Thank God for rain!
Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond
It is raining today and more is forecast. This year we have had many weeks of very hot humid weather. We English are not built for that……
Submitted to the Dverse Open Link Night.
Every year, the bright
Scandinavian summer nights
fade away without anyone
noticing.
One evening in August
you have an errand outdoors,
and all of a sudden
it’s pitch-black.
A great warm, dark
silence
surrounds the house.
It is still summer,
but summer is no longer
alive.
It has come
to a standstill;
nothing
withers, and autumn
is not ready to begin.
There are no stars yet,
just darkness.
The can of kerosene
is brought up from the cellar
and left in the hall,
and the lamp is hung up
on its peg by the door.
Day by day,
everything
moves closer
to the house.
By Tove Jansson
Gulls swoop and lift
stitching sea to sky
Mirror smooth sun glinted
water sips at the shore
Supping on scampi in salt air
we have found our bliss
Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Heart broken she withdraws
as every winter
into dark soil
lets warmth seep from all
The promise of the stars nightly turning
the sinking and turning of constellations
the track of planets wandering across the sky
says that she will return
Time past she was encouraged
by midwinter fires
now we trust to orbital mechanics
Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond
