Month: October 2024

WEATHER WARNING

Falling out and hurt, we sometimes can’t find a way forward until
we realise stone boats don’t work!

WEATHER WARNING

They had a terrible falling out,
One hurting the other
Until, little by little,
Love seeped away
Through the cracks newly discovered,
Leaving them on islands of pain.
There was nothing to be done,
For nothing could reach them.

Until they spoke to the Future,
Waiting until it got back to them.
Lover needing to reach Lover,
To sail across this sea of misunderstanding.
End this separation.
Quick!  Hasten to do it.
Hurry!  Fashion a boat out of love,
Sail it fast to each other.

Tapping its teeth with a long coral finger,
The Future said it couldn’t see any problem
As long as they had a conveyance that would float.
Murmuring of wrecks and wild weather.
Laughing out loud when they told it
What they would be sailing in,
Making whales sneeze and shells clatter
As first one said and then the other,
Each would be sailing in their own stone boat.

                      ©2021 Gwen Grant.     

When Bonny inadvertently finds the object which the stranger so desperately
wants – and will go to any lengths to get – she is drawn into an amazing web
of mysterious adventures. In the struggle between the Dazzling Clown and
the kindly Black Monk, can Bonny make the right decisions? For suddenly
the whole fate of Time and Eternity, good and evil, lies in the hands of
Bonny Starr.‘

Available on Amazon Kindle and Draft2Digital e-books.

DAY IN WAITING

Early morning mist, Ladybirds and the young black cat
all there when it was still dark.

DAY IN WAITING

The mist came slinking in.
Very late. Gone 4.00. And cold.
Freezing cold.
I watched it pleat itself down the street,
One tireless fold after another,
Until all pleats and folds joined together,
A vast grey souffle of unseeing.

That’s the silent world
Showing off its power again.
Snow falling. Ice forming. Wind blowing.
There’s no end to it.
No-one ever presses the OFF switch
So stars fall without a whisper,
Enormous ships on enormous oceans
Sink without trace.
Relatives never to be seen again
And home sweet home a new place altogether.

Still, not to be dramatic.
That tissue-paper mist uncurls this time
Before any damage is done.

There’s that fat cat light on his paws,
Thoughtfully eyeing a small rustling in the hedgerow,
And on a cold white window-sill
A Ladybird lies dead and totally done for.
A brooch pinned on a day in waiting,
Making a whole posse of angels weep.

Making us weep, too.
Wondering what comes after this.

                                           © 2024 Gwen Grant

WAITING FOR SUNRISE 

The first frost of winter this morning and the garden is white over.  The water in the
big brown bird bowl on the path is frozen and when I looked out, the ice glittered in the sun.
This poem has been on my blog before but I hope you enjoy it again.   I really wanted 
to bring the hay fields back.  These fields were north of Dundee and the sheer beauty of
them smiling into the cold morning remains with me.   Plus I wanted the warmth of Love
to be in this frosty morning.

   WAITING FOR SUNRISE 

There they are,
Sheaves of hay lying in the fields
Like golden Lovers,
Waiting for sunrise,
Waiting for the sun’s warmth
To cradle their tired heads.
Make soft shadows of eyelashes
Lying quiet against their faces. 

Don’t wake them,
Let them rest.
For over the thorn hedge
In the next field waiting,
Winter rests on its elbow,
Frosty fingers all set
To kill summer stone dead. 

Here comes the sun.
Time enough now to shake their shoulders
Before the frost gets close enough to touch them.  

Hold hands, Lovers. 
Hold hands and run.
                                         © 2019 Gwen Grant