Some readers will recognize this poem as I once posted it over the Christmas period as one of my Poems
for Christmas. However, I have decided to make several significant changes which I think makes
the poem more perennial…like the Heath itself.
The editors of a
delightful Hampstead Heath site that includes the original among other poems
will be editing accordingly. ('Culture' button.)
I am so fortunate to live
within easy walking distance of Hampstead Heath. I love to stroll there in all
weathers. Conscious of walking in the
footsteps of giants - Keats, Turner, Dickens…to name but a few - I feel
similarly inspired. I cannot compare myself with their talents, but suspect I
am filled with much the same sense of love and peace as they for communing with
nature in all its shapes and forms.
Photo: Hampstead Heath in winter
AN AFFINITY (OF SORTS)
WITH WINTER or WORLD, HALF ASLEEP
One wintry day,
I strolled on Hampstead
Heath,
snow almost ankle deep
in a world whose very
life-force
fallen half asleep
A deafening silence
hurt my ears as I made
my way
among trees like
chandeliers,
ran a gamut of moon
shadows
and winter’s tears
Apollo’s footprints
buried among kinder
memories,
yet every now and then
I would chance to catch
the eye
of a custom snowman
I had started out alone,
but not for long,
friendly ghosts
of seasons past anxious
to keep me company, lend
hope,
transcend worst fears
Redbreast, too, began
conjuring up images of a
lasting
love, comfort, and
peace;
songs composed by Earth
Mother,
plagiarised by clerics
Mind and spirit so
inspired,
every host body welcome
to share
(no matter whose or
where)
that holds this life’s
finer dreams
close and dear
One wintry day
I strolled on Hampstead
Heath,
snow almost calf deep
in a world posturing
life balance
while half asleep
Copyright
R. N. Taber 2013
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