Swifts

Swift (Apus apus) in flight

Malvern Hills on misty moisty morning,
the sun up and doing for three hours now
British Camp beckons signing a warning
of bright sunlight as I get to the brow.

Silence and solitude unbroken drops
abiding stillness, soundlessness flutters,
no soul disturbs the calm of the hilltops,
Midsummer Hill sighs in silence shuttered.

And then from the West come the saucy swifts,
swooping and singing, playing today, while
they wait to migrate, chase, drift, flit and lift,
twitter, skitter, dip and dance to my smile.

What joy in aloneness, what joy in sight,
a ballet of darting, diving divas
so rare, a flock of sure swifts in full flight,
plunging and soaring they surpass their viva.

Silence and solitude unbroken drops
abiding stillness, soundlessness flutters,
no soul disturbs the calm of the hilltops,
Midsummer Hill sighs in silence shuttered.

Polly Robinson © 2013

I live within reach of Fanthorpe’s ‘stagey Malverns’ and Auden’s ‘blue hills’, the hills famously trodden by Tolkien and Elgar that inspired their music and writing.

Swifts comes from an Autumn walk. It’s wonderful to walk our glorious hills ~ the swifts were extraordinary ~ a real and unexpected treat.

Winter Artistry In The Malverns

Frowsty ferns and frosted hay,
Hints of darkening damp decay,
Dank smouldering fires,
Smokey blue Shires.
A dog’s yap ricochets
Across archaic
Byways.

Buzzards ride, sway,
Swoop on small prey.
Fanthorpe and Auden
Write of Malvern
Hills echo poets
With Elgar’s discern-
ing ear.

Polly Robinson © 2012

Your morning challenge: vote on the final lines of Artistry In The Malverns

I’ve had a couple of offline comments on the rhythm in the final lines of Artistry In The Malverns ~ some of you like the dissonance in the original final lines and say it makes the poem more interesting, less plodding, as it stops you and makes you think about what’s being said, and some of you don’t see how it fits and would like consistency.  Now, whilst this is largely down to your reading of the poem / your expectations of poetry / your personal preferences, it would be most interesting if you’d vote for the one you like best from the two versions below.

Just reply with A or B and a comment if you wish to make one

Here is the original of Artistry In The Malverns, let’s call it A:

A

Scented hot hay
Hints of damp decay,
Dank smouldering fires
Smokey blue Shires.
Dogs’ yaps ricochet
On archaic byways.
Buzzards ride, sway,
Swoop on small prey.
Fanthorpe and Auden
Write of Malvern
Hills echo poets
With Elgar’s discern-
ing ear.

B

Scented hot hay
Hints of damp decay,
Dank smouldering fires
Smokey blue Shires.
Dogs’ yaps ricochet
On archaic byways.
Buzzards ride, sway,
Swoop on small prey.
Fanthorpe and Auden
Write of Malvern Hills
That echo poets with
Elgar’s discerning ear.

Artistry In The Malverns

Scented hot hay
Hints of damp decay,
Dank smouldering fires
Smokey blue Shires.
Dogs’ yaps ricochet
On archaic byways.
Buzzards ride, sway,
Swoop on small prey.
Fanthorpe and Auden
Write of Malvern
Hills echo poets
With Elgar’s discern-
ing ear.

Polly Robinson © 2012

Posted on dVerse OpenLinkNight ~ Week 68 with the lovely Natasha Head of Tashtoo in the chair