Calling more BurnsPoems are slowling trickling in for the anthology of Berwickshire verse we are putting together to raise money for local charities. I like this one :
A Whiteadder Day
I lie in supplication, awaiting the fiery face
Of a shrouded sun to warm my pallored cheeks.
A toying breeze touches and teases slender reeds
Whispering windy warnings of gales to come,
Whilst blowing angry clouds to other tearful skies
The myriad starburst, a celebration
Of the sun’s arrival to the rippled lake.
Makes fishermen release their uncaught sorrows,
And sailor’s leathered faces mirror cheery flags
On rainbowed, scudding, white-sailed yachts.
The harshness of overbearing, sentried hills is softened
By the sun-peeped patchwork of purple-heathered slopes,
Quilting the slate-capped, white-walled homes.
Whose windows gaze, sightless, on a blood-berried ash
Clinging bent, wind-wizened, to the rocky shore.
One gory branch waves a warning of impending gales
To pack-burdened walkers on a distant rocky ridge,
Crawling their ant-hilled, zigzagged way to home,
And fish-gorged herons fly to their fledgling families,
But I lie still, anchored to the earth by mankind’s gravity.We need a lot more to make tha anthology worthwhile. Anyone who has a poem in them is very welcome ro contribute. You don't even have to be living in Berwickshire. Sad if you are not but worse things happen
Labels: Berwickshire Poetry
