View From A Hill

View from a Hill

  (Part 1 - West Dorset)

  by

  Tony Farnden

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  Table of Contents

  Lyme Bay

  After Rain

  Across Land and Sea

  Between Earth and Sky

  Sun and Moon

  Another Land

  Storm

  Charmed in the Round

  Salt Kisses

  Trees

  Cogden Beach, Dorset

  Winter Into Spring

  Green Heart

  Dorset the Fae

  The Long Hour Glass

  Lyme Bay

  From up here the bay lays spread out

  in silver and pewter

  beneath grey clouds lit from behind by a low winter sun.

  The tide is out showing old gold

  between Charmouth and Lyme.

  In the western distance Torquay and Brixham brood,

  all moody sapphire,

  as does Portland to the east,

  jutting out into the icy sea.

  But it is the sea and sky that draw my eyes outwards,

  meeting like two lovers in the softest of embraces,

  all shivers and sighs.

  The sea's skin like mercury, rippling at the touch

  of the sky's breath

  and merging into one inseparable truth at the horizon.

  Goddess kissing goddess with a yearning that spills

  into my being, filling it to overflowing,

  salt tears streaming in the breeze.

  (Looking out over Lyme Bay from Hardown Hill, 4th December 2013.)

  After Rain

  The dogs run ahead through the holloway,

  splashing through the puddles,

  chasing some phantom scent.

  The haws and hazels arch overhead,

  a cloister dripping rain as we pass under them.

  We burst out into the last rays of the winter sun.

  Clouds, scarves of glowing rose and peach,

  embrace a sky of turquoise and lapis.

  Veils of rose are reflected back from the east,

  a kiss to remind us she will be back come dawn.

  (16.05, December 13, 2013)

  Across Land and Sea

  Go little bird,

  fly far and fly safe

  across land and sea,

  through rain and hail,

  through sand and fire.

  Go little bird,

  fly far and fly safe,

  from my north to her south,

  from my winter to her summer,

  and sing the words I taught you.

  Go little bird,

  fly far and fly safe

  and sing her my words

  of friendship and of love

  when she wakes next morn.

  (A rainy afternoon in Dorset after talking to a friend, 21.12.2013.)

  Between Earth and Sky

  skies are glowing

  behind grey clouds

  as she again passes,

  low above the hills,

  like a winter's child

  drawn on by a promise

  of an icy touch

  sending shivers outwards.

  the trees are swaying,

  reeling still from

  her sister's passing.

  back she, the wind, will come

  to tug at my coat

  trying to drag me

  skywards, held close

  in her fierce cold embrace.

  but the land holds me fast

  as she too has not yet

  whispered all the secrets

  she has for my ears alone.

  Sun And Moon

  The sea is at rest after so much turmoil

  and the sky, free of clouds for once,

  sends a breeze inland, an icy shawl

  that wraps us all in its frigid folds.

  The winter taunts us with a spring lie

  as a dark butterfly skims across the gorse

  and is gone before leaving its name,

  whether admiral or peacock who knows.

  The sun has rolled out a 9 karat road

  upon the murmuring waves

  from the southern horizon to the beach below

  inviting her daughter moon to join her

  in her dance across the ice blue sky.

  The moon, two thirds of an ivory disk,

  watching from the north-east,

  ignores her mother's request.

  She has the stars to lay with tonight

  on their velvet bed of ebony,

  even if the clouds roll back in.

  11th January 2014

  Another Land

  Golden Cap's flat top meets the sea

  at the point where the sky touches down

  on the gray horizon, blurred by distance.

  Will it look the same if I climb up to it

  or will it reveal something other,

  maybe a portal to the land of the Fay?

  Just take one more step,

  not looking down, ahead in trust.

  A step into another existence

  to somewhere else,

  somewhere on another page

  from another story on another shelf.

  Rather than plummet to where all folly leads

  I'll wait 'til my dreams take me there, as they will,

  and then I will step over that threshold into Fairy.

  Open your hand and keep this small token for me

  as you will need it to call me back when day returns.

  It is my love for you wrapped in a soft kiss.

  (Golden Cap is one of the highest points in my part of the world - the landward side is a hill rising to a flat top grazed be sheep - the seaward side is a vertical cliff. This ghost side leads to another land not often trod except in dreams.)

  Storm

  Old man Storm has woken the morning up

  with swords clashing and drums rolling.

  He's spreading his ragged cloak

  across the whole sky,

  turning grey morn to purple night

  before he stabs through the dark

  with angry jabs of electric blue

  and noisy threats, daring all comers.

  The clouds bleed iron,

  pouring their life's blood

  upon the saturated earth,

  streaming down from the hills,

  filling drains and ditches,

  as the air roars and shakes.

  Trees howl and thrash,

  skeletal fists raised high,

  bending but not submitting,

  even when limbs crack

  and tumble groaning

  to the drowned forest floor.

  Land and sea snarl at each other,

  waves crashing,

  pebbles squealing,

  rolling up and down the beach,

  in a tumult of spray and foam,

  lovers in a tussle of white bedding.

  Old man Storm, now expended,

  bent and wasted, departs, growling.

  Charmed in the Round