The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
Hello everyone who follows David King (My Father). On behalf of the family this post is to let you know that Dad sadly passed away, peacefu...
extract from the poem Koi by John Burnside All afternoon we've wandered from the pool to alpine beds and roses ...
What makes us suppose that only the living grieve? Now all but lost in this new and familiar world of tall, leaning-together buildings...
A Birthday in April ~ Wordsworth Prompt from The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (The first of three posts which will celebrate the l...
Friday, 24 June 2011
The Jinksy Mountains
as sculpted by the sun,
blurred lovingly by heat haze
on a day that's just begun.
These are The Fairy Mountains
on which bright pixels dance,
and wandering through their valleys,
the mind is in a trance.
These are The Peaceful Mountains
where never wind has stirred,
where no sound breaks the silence
except the sound of bird.
These are The Slate-Grey Mountains
prospectors trod of old;
their jaggedness their beauty,
their colours come from gold.
These are The Jinksy Mountains
(not Jinxy, understand),
which if not wholly natural...
Blow me, they're Jinksy-planned!
You thought them just a picture?
You're wrong, my friend, you're wrong:
they're Land Art for the record.
She's another Richard Long!