3 minute read
POEMS
ODE TO SUMMER AND AUTUMN
Summer glides by, gay and golden, as fields of gaillardias Rioting and fluttering on burnished amber wings Where bees bumble in the humid heat of misty mornings, Alighting to bathe on dewdrops glinting in the sun’s coppery rays.
Ghoulish heads of sunflowers, laced with spider threads, Purple-fruited blackberries dripping from brambles, Bending low where the scarlet fuchsia scrambles, Tumbling in showers of tiny, twirling petals where the fir outspreads.
A cornucopia of blushing, rosy apples glitters in abundance on an ornamental tree. Before midnight the harvest moon’s glowing lantern sails free
Eerily casting its silvery net through the hawthorn’s fingers, Charming open a casement for an outstretched hand That catches lightly at a magical, shimmering strand, Weaving across the somber lawn, as it softly lingers.
Then autumn, season of spiderwebs and swollen skies, Haunting harbinger of Winter, champagne tribute to fading Summer, Leaves in a long, gusty rush of wings and clamour, Prelude to the swelling chorus of jackdaw cries,
Screeching and swirling around the sycamores and rooftops.
Sally Richards, Porthcawl
SEA-SCAPE
If I could be anything, what would I be? Maybe a cave dweller overlooking the sea. With a view that serves as both window and door, A lens to the world and my personal shore. Forsaking the rat-race, its turmoil and stress, A drastic downsize but downsizing no less. I would still have a roof to protect from the storm, And I’d ‘beachcomb’ for driftwood to keep myself warm. Foraging for seaweed and plants from the hills, Catching fish for my food with my limited skills.
As the sun slowly sets, diminishing light, I’ll watch the sky darken to blackening night. With the moon as my lantern, the stars as my guide, The cave, my protection in which I can hide. The waves soothing sound will lull me to sleep, As they break against rocks, encircling the deep. A comforting sound in the darkness of night, Until early dawn breaks peeping glimmers of light. Roused by the gulls raucous cries overhead, I’ll wake to the sunrise, a sky tinted red.
Catherine Millard Payne, Bridgend
WHEAT AND PIGS
the sun to my back, I walk toward a moonlit field toward the beacon hanging in the sky
I am drawn to its glow like moth to flame the sun strikes me down wings embered
I hit soft ground cradled beneath both sun and moon scorched wings buried beneath the earth the sun blinding, the moon translucent I fill my eyelids with soil, becoming fodder for wheat and pigs
William Watkins, Porthcawl
POEM
Boats are sailing Albatross flying Me sitting by the bay, enjoying Not so much deep ,water Kids even tackle the waves Shells swept across the sand Shining star ,every grain Sky blue above shines Sun smiling too ,much often What a day it has become Some needed the shade even Some bare feet walked miles Here comes the pigeon again Picking some leftover from me lunch Though I licked every bit of the flavour What a day it’s been, I love the heat, then cool breeze What a scene What I have felt What I have seen.
Nadeem Iqbal, Bridgend
SO MANY GOOD TIMES
So many good times shared over the years, So many memories in the pot, Always there with a hand to hold, A great friend who will never be forgot.
How many times you were there for me, Helping me along the way, When days got tough and nights were long, You always knew the right things to say.
You knew what words to perk me up, You didn’t beat around the bush, You would tell me off when I needed it, And would give me a gentle push… (or maybe not so gentle!)
We had some fun and laughed a lot, The time seemed to move so fast, You always brightened up my days, I wish I had known when the day was our last.
What would I have said on our last day together? I would have told you how amazing you are, A light at the end of the tunnel, You’ve earned your wings, now a shiny new star!
