In Search of Earth Magic

All of the most magical places, whether spectacularly beautiful, or hauntingly spiritual, are nothing without the love of my wife. Nothing is anything, without her in my life.

The lone pine tree

On the heathered moor;

With the setting sun behind;

Secret ways,

Along shadowed,

Root-veined, paths;

Old trees, gnarled and twisted, 

With, more than imagined, faces,

Staring out; wickedly;

Long reeds and grasses;

Swaying in the wind;

Meadows with cows and buttercups;

Snow-mountains in the distance;

Cascading waters.

Surf exploding,

Onto flesh-coloured sands; 

The cracking of the whole sky

During summer storms.

----

The scent of bluebells

In fairy-tale forests;

The enticement of damp and dark places;

Mosses, lichens and ivies.

Fantastical creatures in summer clouds;

Patterns of autumn leaves;

Red, and golden, along the ground.

The deep silences of smooth lakes,

Amidst towering fells,

And glowering crags.

Mysteries of standing stones;

Circles, barrows, wells;

The ruins of sacred places.

----

All of these;

Always as nothing,

Without you by my side,

And the feeling

Of your hand

In mine.