Winter Sun

   Fresh breeze, blue sky and glorious winter sun that places a lustrous sheen upon the great willows do welcome me this weekend morning. Goldfinch feed on seed and the wicked talk of the magpie does echo through the conifer wood, the home of jay and sparrow hawk, where dappled stars of light cut through the hanging mist.

   Cock pheasant struts from hadgerow to open headland, the sun lighting his rainbow chest like polished glass while brambles rest from frost and ice for just one day. For this bead maker a day of fresh air will be enjoyed and the pen too will enjoy freedom, for it's words will bring memories and opinions that none can erase.

Winter Coat

   With snow white frost nestled under shade and Egrets searching the ice filled dykes that line every jet black acre, the cold north west winds sweep the fenland on this day of rest like winter's own besom broom. The blackbird rambles like a drunken sailor through the berry clad branches while those of baptist faith entre cold chapels where brick and timber house great words of priphets and disciples.
   My mind dreams of the past souls who stood in this cold fen air, breath rising from every word as fingers bare the winter coat that we all wear, a coat that colours the cheeks and fills the lungs, with coldness, but one that keeps us healthy and fen tigers strong.