Moorland night

Stars pooled like milk at zenith
Coloured lights tracking across
Blinking

Deep night swallows all light
Here on the Moor

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

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Mount Blanc

Her great mass
Tears the clouds, pierces the sky
Pulls at the high blues
Stealing it for her glaciers
Pale blue crumples rivering down
Grinding the mountain smaller
Carving, blunting, sharpening
Yet huge snowfields capture the suns glint
Outshining the glaciers blue claws
To crown her majesty

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Ice and snow for Christmas……     ….. I hope your festivities are all you want them to be.

Olso Fjord

Olso Fjord

Brightness cuts the morning haze to lace
Distant fjord islands float on the light
Sunbright reflections dazzle into the camera lens
Here at the city edge, the discontinuity between city and fjord
We stand, building cranes nosing and noising  behind us
While silence washes all clean in front of us

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Originally blogged May 1 2016….  I’m dreaming of a white Christmas….

Rat Trap

I tasted aviation fuel in your air today
Laundry flies in the dirty breeze
Overflying jets deafen your children
I still cannot hear at that pitch
Your rainbows are black, lacking imagination
Hillingdon
Rat trap, small town lost in a mega city
So glad to leave you at eighteen
So reluctant now to re-visit

Except perhaps to fly away….

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Note: Hillingdon is where Heathrow airport is located. And where I grew up in the huge suburbs of West London.

The best writing about such a dirty little place is Paul Simon’s, in the song “My Little Town”:

And after it rains
There’s a rainbow
And all of the colors are black
It’s not that the colors aren’t there
It’s just imagination they lack
Everything’s the same
Back in my little town