(near Cambridge), UK
—Delphinium Photos Courtesy of Public Domain
STUDIES in BLUE
THAT PERFECT BLUE
Tiny petals of forget-me-nots
Tiny petals of forget-me-nots
are blown like blue confetti
across the summer lawn.
The endless blue of the sky
is caught in these small dots.
As if minute chips of enamel
have dropped from heaven,
pure in form and colour,
fragile, transient samples
of that perfection that hovers
just out of our reach
across the summer lawn.
The endless blue of the sky
is caught in these small dots.
As if minute chips of enamel
have dropped from heaven,
pure in form and colour,
fragile, transient samples
of that perfection that hovers
just out of our reach
THE BAY OF BENGAL
Breakers roll towards
wet, smooth sand.
Sari-clad figures, red. tangerine
green, bob at the edge
where the frothing lace
tongues of the waves
lick up the burning beach.
Hawkers with giant conches,
strings of glowing beads,
wander among sun bathers
buying, bargaining, bartering.
Through the clearest of water,
I look at my feet
wooed by the pull of the tide,
my footprints quickly fill,
obliterated, wiped smooth,
washed away into vacancy,
kidnapped by the vast blueness
of the sea.
The local nulias in fishermen’s,
triangular, plaited caps,
stand guard by swimmers
against sudden side currents.
BLUE SPLENDOR
Delphiniums, tall, stately,
Gracious Queens of the summer border
Blue spikes reaching skyward
Challenging the endless blue above.
While the lesser courtiers:
Cornflowers, bluebells, hyacinths
Bow and sway beneath.
BLUE HILLS
Far distant, blue hills of childhood
hover still on the edge of memory.
Summits hidden in autumn fog,
in winter snow in deep drifts,
white pillows of long- lost dreams.
Spring skies of enamelled blue;
where ageless lambs still skip,
summer fields are ever green.
Deep blue shadows of twilight,
linger still in the old birch wood.
Patches of memory, moonlit meadows,
dark rings of enchantment,
fairies are dancing,
where the mushrooms explode
in tiny atomic clouds
like bursts of memory
BLUE NILE
Blue Nile
running lazily between banks
through rocky gorges
boats flit like butterflies
sails billow in bright sunlight
Thread of blue
watery silk embroidering its way
through the desert
completing the tapestry
in shades of turquoise and indigo
Ancient waterway
flooding the arid landscape
life-enabling
golden hoard for a Pharoah
precious corn in Egypt
Blue Nile
running lazily between banks
through rocky gorges
boats flit like butterflies
sails billow in bright sunlight
Thread of blue
watery silk embroidering its way
through the desert
completing the tapestry
in shades of turquoise and indigo
Ancient waterway
flooding the arid landscape
life-enabling
golden hoard for a Pharoah
precious corn in Egypt
BUILDING SANDCASTLES IN 1945
Grey Sea—Blue Mood
(First time on a beach in UK at the end
of World War II)
We built sandcastles to a notional plan
drawbridges, moats, towers, turrets
a sky grey with scudding clouds
green strips of curly seaweed,
mermaids’ hair, artistically trailed
over buttresses and walls of sand.
Empty coffins of pink shells
pressed delicately into battlements.
We squatted in swimming costumes
made from old jumpers, wet and soggy.
In a cold east wind, running into
a grey, sullen, North Sea,
with leaky buckets to replenish
an ever- thirsty moat of sand.
Gritty sandwiches clutched in one hand
we fortified our fragile defences.
Bright coloured, wooden spades,
our weapons against a threatening sea.
Inevitable surrender after a watery siege
as lizard tongues of foam lick sandy walls.
We jump in self-destructive frenzy,
crazy, destroying our own creation.
Spitfires fly low.
The grey waves
finish the demolition.
_____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
In age of consumerism and materialism, I traffic in blue sky and colored air.
—James Turrell
____________________
—Medusa, with thanks to Sarah Das Gupta for her fine poetry today!
Those perfect forget-me-nots!
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