Snakes and Ladders

Snakes and Ladders may well be a game of chance

time and unforeseen occurence look askance

You wake up in the morning and don't think twice

another day dawns it's time to throw the dice

today you climb the ladder and get things done

rise to the challenge so the battle is won

but for as long as the Serpent wears the crown

there will always be something to bring you down

with determination you restart your climb

important decisions take meaningful time

however if you can eliminate pride

just move along the squares and enjoy the ride

sometimes it seems like every day is the same

though with a firm resolve you can win the game

but it would be nice if you didn't have to think twice

or even have the need to throw any dice.

     Abandoned crofters cottage on the Applecross peninsula.

Delapidation

You opened your arms to a Highland ramble

yet all of your doorways were blocked by bramble

couldn't be rebuilt, impossible to maintain

this curt reminder in the wind's sharp refrain

a backdrop of mountains and river combine

to make delapidation a charming shrine

there were challenges that you embraced before

now you cannot jump the hurdles anymore

in a raging storm you'd turn the other cheek

you choose to remain silent though you can speak

you've been found guilty but committed no crime

for all you ever did was lose track of time.

The remains of Vallay House

The sad decline of Vallay House

None of the Islanders could see any sense

in building a mansion at such great expense

a pane of glass for each day of the year

but Highland weather haled the end was near

in the centrepiece gathered all the smarties

for those renowned fishing and shooting parties

no expense spared in furnishings and design

no shortage of Whisky and plenty of Wine

impressive family home tells it's own story

but soon to be a shadow of its former glory

no longer could water be pumped from the land

or cartloads of peat trailled across the sand

ensconced in Winter's dark and empty space

the family gathered around the fireplace

sitting mesmorised by the flickering flames

long before computers or video games

they talked about things that mattered to them most

isolated on Uist's stormy West coast

ethereal shadows sleepwalking through time

since young Brother George was taken in his prime

with the Business failing they didn't know what to think

when George sold the family jewels to pay for his drink

it was plain to see that the glory days were through

their young Brother's days were over at just twenty two

caught out by the tide as he tried to cross the strand

maybe if he wasn't drunk he'd have made it to land

now the great Castle seems to have lost it's charm

so the island once again resumes life as a farm

over time, lichen would gather on the stones

and the high walls surrendered to the winds howling groans

end of an era, the family had to move on

those flickering flames in the fire have long gone.

Vallay House has been abandoned since 1944

     

The Raven

High above An Tealach's icy fingers

as cold as steel your presence lingers

over the hills where the wind howls and moans

and stolid in fields of dead men's bones

fear not dark angel of the skies

this world does not know that you are wise

the road to wisdom is fraught with danger

and cursed is the voyage of the stranger

as pure as white and as black as jet

fear prevailed when our eyes met

life is fraught with harsh circumstances

yet you don't believe in second chances!

Leaving Druidaig

There you stand on the shoulders of time

the rainbows on your loch were simply sublime

I'll return in the guise of a Highland game

but in our own tug of war you'll still look the same

resting on the banks of old mossy bridges

reflections in the water of high mountain ridges

basking in memories of sun laden days

and loch side fires that set the world ablaze

days fall into one and go by far too fast

thankfully our future can be tied to our past

so farewell Druidaig, it's sad to have to go

look forward to the next time we say hello

the boat that leaves the shore can always come back

just like Cuilinn mountains have more than one track

always in our hearts we respond to your call

when we left Druidaig we didn't really leave at all.

Murmuration

Just before the light begins to fade

as Winter gradually gives way to Spring

the sky is filled with this swooping glissade

a kaleidoscopic unity up there on the wing

we felt privileged to be selected

overwhelmed by such a breathtaking display

it's come to light your nesting sites are not protected

so you've come to voice your deep conerns today

wave after wave in a distant semaphore

brings you all together from far and wide

plunging geometry upon our shore

pirouettes of plumage shall be your pride

watching a symphony of eternal tears

your neat trajectory brings many curtain calls

the felling of more trees confirms our worst fears

your nests will be safe when our curtain falls.

Murmurations ll

Overwhelmed by unprecedented unity

a plume drifted around the world

honesty and respect adorned their feathers

but from where does their Kingdom call?

Maybe an intuition beyond our grasp

cognitive skills we may never know

plunging into this swirling geometry

no longer isolated

but seemlessly melded together

just like Starlings.

The Swing Bench

They would sit together on the swing bench

the bonding of two souls was all that they knew

their whole life lay stretched out in front of them

in the fullness of time their problems were few

of course they were the same as anyone else

they had the same issues that everyone gets

but they sat down and worked things out together

resolved to have harmony 'before the sun sets'

in no time at all they were blessed with three kids

after all it is a natural desire

the garden was abuzz with children's laughter

and pen lines on doors that kept getting higher

Alfie could easily have been a millionaire

the essence of business was always his thirst

but he knew where his priorities laid

deep in his heart he knew his family came first

sometimes their world would turn on its dark side

but they remained upbeat and never feared the worst

they always looked for the best in each other

Jenny had the human touch, She was a nurse

on the swing bench they would sit and drink their wine

in everlasting summers they thought would never go

a mural in chalk was the pride of the children

a united family their hearts were aglow

but through the passage of time the chain links got rusty

like that song on the radio you heard in the past

the rain came down and washed the mural away

a tuneful melody but you know it can't last

over time relationships became untied

midst echoes in the garden of children at play

the lines on the doors have faded through time

blue bbq skies have faded to grey

through the clamor of voices Alfie heard a bell

a humble man he knew it was time to go

the moss of time gathers in the empty garden

as the wind blows the swing  bench to and fro

Jenny could no longer walk the dark and lonely road

autumn leaves chased her down the streets of her life

Roses and Butterflies are still in the garden

golden hearted Mother and ever loving Wife

on the front lawn there stands a 'for sale' sign

it's over but sixty years was a long show

an empty shell, just a few relics in the garden

still the wind blows the swing bench to and fro.

On the return of the Clouded Yellows

That special moment of anticipation

like the surf that breaks across the sand

beauty is flourishing in the woods

Clouded Yellows have made it back to land!

beneath a soft Spring sun of promise

where newly budded branches wave

tenacious petals cling to their stems

for fear that the North wind wont behave

iridescent wings of a passing joy

as the scent of Buckthorn fills the air

vibrant colours bid you to the dance

the cluster landed on a wing and a prayer

birds chirp away in a backdrop of song

enough to brighten up anyones day

the sun serenades in wandering bands

until twilight hastens nature away.

During World War Two, a yellow haze was observed drifting across the English Channel, this was percieved as a poisonous gas attack! On closer inspection it was a migratory cluster of Clouded Yellows.

Observations

Would you like to write?

Just read some well written books

then you will write well.

We can be clever

we have a lot of knowledge

yet we know nothing.

an issue was raised

just a footbreadth on his land

that's how wars begin.

letters are mundane

when they are not hand written

void of emotion.

if you can see it

others can see it also

therefore keep silent.

young years go fast

the past becomes relevant

when you are mature.

 Old Chimney Streets

Their faces pressed towards the sun

towering over little plots

children playing and having fun

in concrete yards like little dots

back in the days when things were slow

there was no hourglass of time

neighbour waves from an upstairs window

there isn't even a hint of crime

o'er the garden fence atmosphere

everyone seemed to know each other

precious times that we still hold dear

friends would stick closer than a Brother

every chimney had a fire within

a regiment on every street

Fathers worked through thick and thin

to put shoes on their children's feet

this army stands there to this day

imposing themselves upon the sky

in tired rows but a neat array

but the world aloof just passed them by.

Bookend

I was grabbed by my tattered jacket

and pulled along by my worn sleeves

as if of no consequence

I had no say in the matter

My transgression? I didn't stand the test of time

in reality, I was never fully understood

other friends also disappeared without trace

a few survived

I was placed in a row -

history met mystery

and pain consoled unrequited love

we were all united by our damaged and worn out spines

seemlessly joining the ranks of the forgotten

where floorboards eternally creak

and nobody ever visits you

or even thinks about you any more.

Titles

So disdained

wasted years

original sin

when it mattered

the war against chaos

up for grabs

immediate action 

upon dark waters

ride out the storm

reading in the dark

spontaneous human condition

tuppence to spend

the place of truth

wings like eagles

from here to eternity

not without my daughter.

      Photographs taken and used by kind permission of 'The Arboretum Bookshop', Lincoln.

The Stillness of the Wood

Everywhere is green as the trees start to bud

nothing but blue skies in the stillness of the wood

ambient whispers of a Butterflies wings

before the sunset starts it's grand colourings

cornfields  beyond the trees are full of russet gold

in the evening's afterglow as Spring gets it's hold

the woodpecker has finally gone back to his nest

chaffinches and robins are kindled full of rest

the mice are hunkered down over in the barley sheaves

no footfall now or even the rustle of leaves

thick green moss on the walls tells it's own story

just part of this docile mass of silent glory

in solitude you can once again become whole

beauty and peace are an anchor for the soul

if you could leave the world's stress behind it would be good

to come and find sanctuary in the stillness of the wood.

Sanctuary 

Behold the presence as the needle drops down

tucked away in a backstreet on the other side of town

recollections of how music used to be

bound together by a cohesive integrity

when music is floundering my heart surely grieves

yet your albums were protected by strong plastic sleeves

tangled up cassettes back in the day were nothing new

sometimes in life though you only get the one view

you could get what you wanted though, even second -hand

or maybe something obscure like Enid's 'Garden of Fand'

be it pre-punk, post-punk or Stranglers 'Golden Brown'

but it was a sad day when the needle finally went down

been there, got the T-shirt, as the saying goes

though records were far more important than clothes

when you realise you've got no money left in the bank

bejewelled moments of the time that you spent in 'Sanc'.

'Sanctuary' was an iconic record shop in Lincoln c.1976 - 1981. It shaped our musical lives. I spent a lot of time and money in 'Sanc' with absolutely no regrets. Couldn't believe it when I came across this T-Shirt on Amazon, I wear it with pride!

The Superior Species?

You're the smallest of the felines

a fact I'm very well aware

                                                         

you thrive on independence

 and strut around without  a care                                                     

I treated you as an equal

and held you in high esteem

                                                          

but all I got was cupboard love

 and laziness in the extreme                                                

everything belongs to you

I'm sure we all know that

                                                            

you purr in sheer contentment

because no one owns a cat

                                                            

so you're the superior species

I sarcastically say "alright"

                                                         

but if I met one of your cousins

I'd be inclined to say "you're right!"

                                

                              

Lamentation - Coming Home

I miss the bog squelching around my feet

and endless hours of rain and sleet

I miss good forecasts that turn out bad

and that bit of good fortune that I never had

I miss getting caught in power showers

and the mist that hangs around for hours

I miss ripping leggings on sharp jagged rocks

and crossing burns as cunning as a Fox

I swear that I'll never complain again

about the wonderful land that keeps me sane

with walking of the very highest calibre

I can't wait to see the sign Fàilte gu Alba!

Ticking Boxes

□  Allow yourself to breathe through your words

□  write about mountains, Butterflies or Birds

□  allow time for your thoughts to come together

□  never get to the end of your tether

□  give your mind time to search for an idea

□  if it doesn't work don't be in fear

□  take your time and go at your own pace

□  tell yourself that you're not in a race

□  if no-one reads it, it doesn't matter

□  it was good for you and you don't want to flatter

□  if things don't alter just leave them be

□  all you have to do is love what you see.

                                       The Author pondering his next step in the Torridon 

                                        hills.

                                  Common Blue