John Rickell Poems

The air is heavy on my lungs,
white heat frightens, platinum not gold,
where was warmth, a cruel shaft.
The bird bath beside the wilting rose
...

Tangles in the shrubbery,
roses soaring to the trees
babel colours held in spiders' webs,
queues of caterpillars in ragwort yellow
...

Frost melting in the sun as diamonds fall from trees
to sparkle on the carpet of leaves that fell last year.
The wood is cold, sun yet to strike the heart.
Helicopters ponder overhead blades crack like whips
...

The horse looked so strong
as we put him to the cart
from the shires he came
heavy muscles, no pedigree.
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The road winding round corners
left and right, up and down
through pines and birch
each bend somehow different
...

Never a noisy place,
seems to sleep all day,
does it dream, the trees,
their fantastic forms,
...

Do you remember our love
in those far seeming times
When the Halcyon
Flew across the sea
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De profundis, the departed
favourite for so many
drawn in awe and fear.
Why no more for joy
...

Silent aspen grove,
autumn light and pool,
drfting clouds
and glassy mirror,
...

I felt no breeze, the day so still
few foot falls in the sand
none save two, flying a kite,
low towards the land
...