Sunday, 5 January 2014

An Affinity (of sorts) with Winter


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

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
on the edge of sleep


Copyright R. N. Taber 2013


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