PASSION was in the trees today….
how they crashed and bashed around
being shaken by high winds….
the winds of focus and intent,
unapologetic for raping branches and twigs,
leaving them quite bare and staccato like.
Golden, bronzed leaves came
flying horizontally through the air
like flat stones skipping on the tide,
as folk stumbled in and out of parked cars
like Lowery’s stickmen,
facelessly leaning into the wind.
I needed air….. I flung wide the windows
and let late Autumn blow its way through
and out, back up into the dappled sky…….
There is passion in my house tonight….
the wind came calling my name today
and has left his heart with me ………..

Dance of Life.


Grey skies hang lifeless

like static paint on tired canvas.

Distant beech glow golden

yet nearer, Mirabelle waft around

in fresh winds of early November…

…. and what of me?

I sit in bed fooling myself about resting

when in fact, I need wind’s arms to

take and spin me on and forward

in this curious Dance of Life ….

Time to move with nature and breathe.

Cambridge in Autumn

Cascading leaves dancing
with Autumn’s cooling breeze.
A brown bird forages under
an old, weathered bench.
Rain make all colours change,
in skies and on fields while
young, bright, hopeful things
pedal hard down Cambridge streets,
late for lectures……
black gowns fly past
like an exodus of Blackbirds
in the wet morning’s light.




Here it is,
softened by elements so warm,
autumnal winds raise skirts and flags
as the equinox opens wide the door
inviting itself in.
King cups incubating underground
await the winter chills to come and pass
before their faces break to the light again.
Yet for now, it’s Mabon’s time.
Tread softly into completion,
as the natural world calls for gentleness
while all around rages, freezes then thaws….
before Ostara comes our way once more.
Your wheel is whatever you make it….
within your perfect equilibrium.