sleeping sound

like a light summer plane
high in the blue over the woods
my imagination says
inbetween worlds
heading but maybe
aimless the point is
small and moving
away

beset by landscapes

those lines

slant as rain far off

disappearing close to horizon where

light suffuses and bleeds away

a few smudges on a wall

the crisp alignment of spectral planes

the scratch

made on his bicycle down by the school

transformed to gateways and elegant windows

momentary glimpses mystic allusion

reedbeds and moorlands dark

angels interupting…

caterpillar memories

in the days of the anthology

provoking the ‘heretofore unrealised’

and ripe dreams of plums against a blue sky

from green farm yards

through granite arches

straggling orchard trees

and skylarks on a warm hill side hear

the waves and those far off along the beach

an orange-juice thirst of smoke haze

in lazy days in dreams out west

dark secrets yet to rise to hinder

all one the hero's day