The Mount (Westward)

By Robert Kingston

From below the tiny acorn, grown!

Upon the dewy green mount, wildly sown

Pupils set afar through blue, where…

Clouds like pillows wretched and twisted drift

Whilst bright gives by day its rising glow,

Encouraging the fields of gold and yellow far beyond below.

 

The spread of domiciles are as far as eye

Pitted paths of mother’s pride

Bustling commonality in different strides

Who meet each day in nature’s guise

Beheld within each, the focus of one’s expectant rise.

 

Vertical skeletons are stood dead in array

Muscle bound through though their power they convey

Charged to warm in days of wintery bold 

Harnessed and vented through machines at play.

They toil to create new visions each and every day.

 

Starlings sighted in the hues above

Choreographing for due days dusk

Weaving in out a tepid breathing sky

Black like their earthly shadows, prancing,

Etching out the autumn sun’s goodbye.

 

The cooling wind blows around the rise

The tall grass and leaves they are tilting a toned surprise

Green to rust upon their crisping lips

As winter’s winds crease and fold through autumn, as seasons eclipse

 

Bolder now the land around

Leaves have fallen to the ground

Trees are bare, bushes stark

Winds they softly howl through day and dark.

 

It’s different now,

Things slow and shuffle around

The smell of scents barely found

Gone asleep until springtime rise,

 Seeing any bird is a pleasant surprise

Many have flown to warmer climes,

Where warm winds let them climb and dance, dip and rise

Exposing their beauty as they sing their songs within the skies.

Missed this day, I suppose no surprise.

 

With the bold cold comes the white

Pitted skies throughout the night

Reflecting bright like diamonds smiling

Giving pleasured sight throughout natures churning delights

 

Crunched prints in dab filled snow

History passing toe by toe

Frozen there, their foraging traces

Etched an image of the many smiling faces

 

Angel prints and great big boulders

Snowmen, sculptures sledges slides

People of many shapes and sizes

Having fun in natures snowy guise

Reddened are their hands and faces

Chapped in softer silken places

Still you see their smiling creases

The flake through warm it rests

Seeping into natures hollowed crests

 

The pond welcomes the waning thaw

Roofs are dripping outside the door

The winter sun glows lowly in the sky

Peoples shadows appearing short as if they are shy

Springtime arrives to witness winters goodbye cry

 

The sky lark sings its springtime tune

Crocus, daffodils have been waking beneath the moon

Colours of yellows, blues, lilacs and mauves

All around spring has yawned as dawn presents its rising glow

The warming sun encouraging nature throughout its expanding groves

 

Smells and scents are licking lips,

Butterflies and bees fluttering through time eclipse,

Birds are scavenging to build their nests for next year’s rise

 As the wonders of nature reveals its wholesome surprise.

 

Clouds are drifting overhead,

 Trees are stretching out and flaunting in yellows greens and reds

People’s moods have now lifted from gruelling winters dread,

 The summer sun shows its glowing spread,

Painting the world with nature’s vibrant threads

Onto a canvass where lovers rest and caress.

 

© Robert Kingston   10.1.15