fossil feet striding out

from ancient layers of sandstone 

dinosaurs awake

snails hide from the sun 

waiting for the night-time rain 

to open like buds

house martins swooping 

under the eaves making nests 

their beaks full of mud

tissue paper nest 

honeycomb cells tucked inside - 

a labour of love

sea kale on the pebbles 

rubbery leaves veined with mauve 

resisting salt winds

on the barbed wire fence 

a black bin-liner flapping 

like a captured crow

a corner to sit 

level with the tops of hills 

and flight of buzzards

horse chestnut flowers 

festoon the tree like candles 

on a chandelier

caught in the headlights 

white flowers jostled by gales 

a clamouring crowd

tiny moth wings spread -

minute tapestry in red 

on a broad bean leaf

bumble bee busy 

in the long grass on the bank 

a plane overhead

kestrel hovering 

tail fanned out against the wind 

still above the cars

woodland gate shaped by 

years of opening and shutting 

to blend with the trees

skeleton leaf lies 

like a light threadbare cover 

on new tender grass

paper-white flowers 

perfectly cut and folded - 

the perfume is real

dandelion clocks 

count down the hours of summer 

we can't catch the seeds

surface of the lake 

veined with reflections of trees - 

last face of winter

in shallow water 

fish glide between earth and sky 

like fallen petals

black swan swimming past

watercolour scenery

under liquid sky

the dawn chorus starts 

sun filters through the curtains - 

a new beginning

morning mist comes in 

breaking like a tidal wave 

over the valley

bare winter branches 

blossom with moon-sized petals -

high tide of flowers

I looked at my child 

new born, a perfect windfall - 

now a mother too

the bark of a tree 

etched to a rugged landscape 

by insects' travels

glimpses of water 

through narrow tree-trunk windows 

blue cathedral light

ducks swim quickly by 

followed by their feathered wakes 

on sky-blue water

early morning light 

filters through the garden gate 

shadows graze the grass

one sun in the sky 

but many small suns shining 

brightly on the ground

pattern of branches 

black scribbles on the blue sky  -

I paint in the leaves

last year's leaves falling

among the new spring flowers -

old nourishing young

sparkling spider's web

traps the early morning sun 

like a bright fly's wing

walking the edges 

on a winding path between

earth sky and water

water weed swirling 

shape-shifting in the shallows 

the breeze in my hair

shaded by pine trees 

still lily pool ringed by gorse 

space to sit and talk

a veil of mist lies 

across the hills, snagging on 

brambles like barbed wire

among the long grass 

in a neglected garden 

primroses shelter

a ginger stoat ran 

quickly in front of the car

as if pulled by string

a pheasant flew up 

flapping like a tartan shawl

blown across the sky

baler twine knotted 

worn and frayed around a post -

strands of blue ivy

the horse chestnut buds 

crack open and spread green hands 

to warm in the sun

on the high chalk downs 

trees are still like cold white bones 

locked in frozen soil

misshapen beech trees 

carved by age and gale-force winds 

tethered by gnarled roots 

a celandine hides 

in the shadow of a pot -

bright star in the dark 

two buzzards circle 

above the misty valley - 

the baby watches

broken shepherd's hut 

in the corner of a field - 

no sheep on the downs

when I go to bed 

shadows of last night's dream fall

across my pillow

a herd of brown cows 

silent in a field of mud 

and cherry blossom

by the wishing well 

the one-eyed cat sits and sees 

all your heart's desires

old gate in a wall 

shut fast with tangled ivy 

when will it open?

a week in the earth 

and tiny tomato seeds 

have become small trees

over Brighton Pier 

starlings mass in swirling clouds 

dark against the sky

the first day of spring

high tides, bright moon, first baby

thirty years ago

bolts and chains locked doors 

guard the secrets of the past 

hidden in the dark

tufts of bright green grass 

spilling from a high gutter 

streaming with water

a flight of stone steps 

worn hollow and overgrown 

seem to lead nowhere

faint clouds of frogspawn 

float over the pond's surface 

mirroring the sky 

the pale light of spring 

draws shadows of winter past 

like pencil sketches 

a drake and two ducks 

bright-feathered on dark water 

scooping dregs of sun 

in the clear water 

we dropped coins, made wishes 

that shone among stones 

blackthorn in blossom 

winter's last light fall of snow 

before spring begins

did the smell of bread 

once drift across these old fields 

from hot stones in huts

blue auricula 

blooming despite the cold air -

the power of art 

a shed in a field 

bins of corn, hessian sacks 

I'm a child again 

trees stretch bare branches 

after the long winter's sleep 

sun warming their limbs

crow, twig in his beak 

hectic flight among the trees 

rush hour cars beneath

the sea surges up 

waves break against window panes -

only in my dream

in the white-washed shed 

north light comes through dirty glass
hens peck at shadows

Shipton Hill hull-up 

capsized on chalk-surfed green downs 

bones and pots beneath

young buzzard long-dead 

beak agape wings stretched for flight 

body light as air

driving home at night 

a sky full of guiding stars 

I follow cat's eyes

kestrel on a wire 

struggling against the west wind 

rags tied to a bush

flocks of gulls gather 

inland on newly ploughed fields 

gales furrow the sea

catkins in jam jars 

sticky buds, frog spawn, snowdrops - 

school nature table

sudden gusts of wind 

the bamboo brushes grey skies

I begin to paint

on Portesham hill 

among stumps of thorn and gorse 

long-horned cattle graze

the sea mist lifting

a silver sun skims the waves 

starbursts on the shore

boats high on the beach 

palette of winter colours 

waiting for spring tides

high in a grey sky

geese flying in formation -

writing on a page

a clump of crocus 

yellow candles in the rain 

flames on waxy stems

every twig shining 

in sudden sun after rain 

days getting longer

sun low in the sky 

paints shadows round tumuli 
stripes across furrows

two squirrels chasing 

eachother round the tree trunk 

heedless of the rain

the moon almost full

beckons seas, banishes sleep

lights the island road