Thursday, 17 July 2014

When the water freezes

I love when winter sets in and
the water element in oxygen condenses and freezes upon all that is exposed to the clear cold sky.

Where the trees shelter the earth,
the frost abates.

Saturday, 12 July 2014

Where the water falls by the ancient stones

flowing by the ancient stone circle
what may one hear in this stream.
a water altar 
in the Rollright Stones- Oxfordshire.

cup and ring marks in Kilmartin, Scotland-
tiny sipping cups for the fairies! 

Thursday, 26 June 2014

Mediterranean Blue

slinking blue soothes 
 turquoise of protection 
surrounding as a balm
the healing power of water
breathes into the cells 

Friday, 14 March 2014

Where the water flows and grows rocks into new forms.

jutting out from the yellowing grasses, 
the rocks hold the hill in its place 
where along the cracks the water follows

the path of least resistance
flowing down
down ever down
until it finds it still point.

there is beauty in similarities

and this was a country without fences

Sunday, 16 February 2014

The smoke that smears itself over everything

                                             Returning recently to Victoria,
                             The smoke from burning fires settled upon everything,
                                       Creating a kind of unease that is irksome.
                             My thoughts, prayers, and love goes out to the fire fighters
                                            And those affected by the fires.


                                 yesterday was one of those days in australia of late
                                 where the horizon is smudged with smoke
                                 from some far off fire

                                 and an eerie resounding feeling abounds
                                 as the heat sticks
                                 and plays game with ones mind.

                                 inescapable it is,
                                 the drying fierceness
                                 of the pulsing summer sun.

                                 in my youth, summer would come and go
                                 uneventfully, save for burnt skin
                                 and joy of late evenings under the sprinkler.

                                 now it seems to stretch itself
                                 obtusely across the longer part of
                                 the year creating dread for the likes of me and my coolth 

                                 loving kin. 

                                  © Allis Hamilton