Friday, 26 August 2011

I stopped where the field gate used to be

I stopped
where the field gate used to be
the granite post
that held the hinges
is still there.

Meaning for being.

Now the post
stands strong
original usefulness
long past.

Around its foot
ferns intermingle
with dock, dandelion,
plantain, grasses.

Here begin the
briars, convolvulus
ivy, old man’s beard.

Lone spider spins.
A beetle scurries.
One wasp briefly alights.
Wood louse play.

Dead grass wraps
around the rough top
stays a snail
big, brown, stationary.

I stopped
where the field gate used to be
the granite post
now a microcosm
of hedgerow wild.

New meaning for being.


REJ GOCH said...

A beautifully conjured picture.

krouth said...

Love this poem! I really like the pictures you paint with your words.

Kjell T. Evensen said...

Thank you for visiting my blog. I have read some of your poetry and find it beautifully descriptive. Have a wonderful weekend. :)


Your gatepost poem resonated with me. There are areas near me that have vintage gate posts with hanging hinges that are no longer being used. Made a post on them awhile back.

Your words were descriptively beautiful. -- barbara

Anonymous said...

"New meaning for being". What a beautiful poem! Loving the feel of it.

CherryPie said...

It sounds so much more beautiful without the gate :-)

Welshcakes Limoncello said...

Lovely. You should publish some of your poems in a collection, Cuby.

the cuby poet said...

To All,
Thank you for your lovely words. I am new to writing poetry and am finding that I like the way it allows me to say what I mean so much more easily than pure prose. Welshcakes as for a collection someone else said that too mmmmm.... I am thinking on that but feel that I need to write more yet but thanks for thinking it good enough.

Leslie: said...

I do remember you as Kissa! And I'm grateful that you found me again and came by. Please by sure to come over often as I will here!