Sky darkening in layers
Streaks of parallel clouds
Cake coloured. Strata
Of confectionery. Different.
Taste of haze upon the hills
Ingredients. Flavourings
Of Summer days ending.
Daily, the sky displays
Rich mist of evening falling
And we consume, post Teatime
Rhyming of the perfect dessert.
Sundown orange paints Welsh hills
With mandarin tartness.
Darkness left to cleanse our palates
Time ticks till, from the East
Life’s daily feast begins again
Sun rising. Pale as milk, at first
Cornflakes in an old, familiar bowl
Till sun settles high above
And Noon is generous. The table groans
Till time stirs us towards High Tea.
Warm cakes and making space
To ice the western Severn hills
To take us into evening.
The smell of sweet apple wood
Upon an open stone hearth
And the taste of colours
And colour of tastes.
Sweet-toothed,
Toothed-fairytales
Under a new-mooned sky
With stars, like sprinkles
Sprinkled upon the icing
And figure-skaters
Pirouetting us to sleep.
And journeys
Without maps
Spinning us to sleep
To slip and slide
And ride the powder snow
To dizzying country dreams
And sponge-like soft landings.
Roger Stennett
6-8-23
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