Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality. Her poem "A Rose For Gaza" was shortlisted for the Theatre Cloud"'War Poetry for Today" 2014 competition. This and many other poems, have been widely published, in recent anthologies such as - "Alice In Wonderland" by Silver Birch Press, "The Border Crossed Us" and "Rise" from Vagabond Press, as well as many other online and print publications. Find Lynn online at: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Lynn-White-Poetry/1603675983213077?fref=tsand lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com
Autumn Rain
Vertical, or horizontal, autumn rain falls from heavy misty clouds,
but when caught by a sunbeam it makes glistening slides
shimmering across the rock and falls
in bright white tails or snakes
like silver where
the mountains
leak it.
Nuts
Last night I dreamt
a squirrel's dream.
It must have been a squirrel’s.
Possibly red, possibly grey,
but definitely a squirrel’s.
There were so many nuts.
They were falling from the sky
like heavy rain.
I had to put up my blue umbrella
to protect me from the showers.
And on the ground,
ankle deep acorns
and hazels
were overtopping my blue boots.
But I saw no squirrels,
only their dreams
of nutty profusion.
Flash
They don’t have the flash
of gaudy summer,
but the winter seeds and trees have
a poignant beauty of their own.
Shapely.
Sculptural.
Poised,
posing for the camera.
They don’t have the nectar
to entice the sugar lovers,
but there’s food
in their seeds,
made
ready for spreading
and rebirth
in another place and time.
They don’t have the flash
of gaudy summer
but see them
glisten
and sparkle
with wet spiders webs
and jewelled
water drops
to light up the dark days.
And later,
glisten
with sugar like
frosty coating.
Still shapely.
Sculptural.
Poised and ready
to face the inevitable
decay.
Autumn Rain
Vertical, or horizontal, autumn rain falls from heavy misty clouds,
but when caught by a sunbeam it makes glistening slides
shimmering across the rock and falls
in bright white tails or snakes
like silver where
the mountains
leak it.
Nuts
Last night I dreamt
a squirrel's dream.
It must have been a squirrel’s.
Possibly red, possibly grey,
but definitely a squirrel’s.
There were so many nuts.
They were falling from the sky
like heavy rain.
I had to put up my blue umbrella
to protect me from the showers.
And on the ground,
ankle deep acorns
and hazels
were overtopping my blue boots.
But I saw no squirrels,
only their dreams
of nutty profusion.
Flash
They don’t have the flash
of gaudy summer,
but the winter seeds and trees have
a poignant beauty of their own.
Shapely.
Sculptural.
Poised,
posing for the camera.
They don’t have the nectar
to entice the sugar lovers,
but there’s food
in their seeds,
made
ready for spreading
and rebirth
in another place and time.
They don’t have the flash
of gaudy summer
but see them
glisten
and sparkle
with wet spiders webs
and jewelled
water drops
to light up the dark days.
And later,
glisten
with sugar like
frosty coating.
Still shapely.
Sculptural.
Poised and ready
to face the inevitable
decay.
© Lynn White
