Inspired after a conversation with Miriam at  MY WINDOW thank you Miriam




I loved

the slight crunch

of fallen needles underfoot,

the seeping balsam hint,

redolent of something past,

just on the nose then gone,

the secret glade of baize like grass,

where drowsy with calm,

I would sit against the thickest bark,

just in the shade, to gaze

at the contrasting glare

of sunlight swatch before me.

I would follow the beck,

knowing where every foot

needed to be placed,

slow and deliberate as

that place became me.

And by the bridge,

where clumps of violet Bluebells grew,

their delicate petals bowed,

shy or tired, vivid against

the deep emerald of wild garlic.

My ghost is there still.


9 thoughts on “MY GHOST IS THERE STILL

  1. Nigel, let me first say a heartfelt thank you for the honour of being mentioned as inspiration.
    It is very kind of you and shows your warmth to those around you.

    Your poem now, it is just wonderful this walk you take. A walk where you really still feel so much of belonging. I love when you say : ” knowing where every foot/ needed to be placed/ slow and deliberate / as that place became me”.

    I call this my Songlines when I go back to the island where I grew and my feet knows every intricate twist and turn across the rocks”.

    Also the last paragraph is so delicate and vivid. I love it.

    Liked by 1 person

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