articles
Articles by contributors will be shown here,
A short poem by Elva Knott.
Marton Moss in Winter
Frost crisp dawn,
Tree patterns embossed on sky,
Ground crackles, crunches, crumbles.
Stiff leaves remain, hedgerow hung,
Defiant of decay.
Branches ice-enamelled,
Earth's slow breath distilled in cold crystal,
A myriad faceted reflections,
Ephemeral beauty assimilating sun,
Dissolving in day.
Copyright© 2009 Elva Knott, Moral Rights Asserted
Marton Moss in Winter
Frost crisp dawn,
Tree patterns embossed on sky,
Ground crackles, crunches, crumbles.
Stiff leaves remain, hedgerow hung,
Defiant of decay.
Branches ice-enamelled,
Earth's slow breath distilled in cold crystal,
A myriad faceted reflections,
Ephemeral beauty assimilating sun,
Dissolving in day.
Copyright© 2009 Elva Knott, Moral Rights Asserted
________________________________________________
Whose Home By Elva Knott
What do you see as the Moss you pass,
A wasteland of brambles and tangled grass,
A muddy ditch, an overgrown tree,
Is this really all that you see?
Watch the sparrow hawk diving to make a kill.
Here a thrush singing loud in the dawn so stll.
You might see a merlin, it swerves swiftly past,
Silently searching, incredibly fast.
The Holly Blue on the ivy flower feeds,
The wren's nest is hidden deep in its leaves.
Elder and hawthorn with berry hung branches,
In summer is where the Speckled Wood dances.
Greenfinch and goldfinch looking for seeds
Not to them are they unsightly weeds.
Brambles hide nests from the scheming magpies,
The frogs enjoy how low the land lies.
The privet blossoming, loved by the bees,
A haven for bluetits in closely knit trees.
Horses that need a pasture to graze
In a dark stable must they spend their days?
Squirrels and foxes,the cooing dove,
The heron lazily flapping above,
What are they all doing living there?
They soon won't be if we don't care.
A wasteland of brambles and tangled grass,
A muddy ditch, an overgrown tree,
Is this really all that you see?
Watch the sparrow hawk diving to make a kill.
Here a thrush singing loud in the dawn so stll.
You might see a merlin, it swerves swiftly past,
Silently searching, incredibly fast.
The Holly Blue on the ivy flower feeds,
The wren's nest is hidden deep in its leaves.
Elder and hawthorn with berry hung branches,
In summer is where the Speckled Wood dances.
Greenfinch and goldfinch looking for seeds
Not to them are they unsightly weeds.
Brambles hide nests from the scheming magpies,
The frogs enjoy how low the land lies.
The privet blossoming, loved by the bees,
A haven for bluetits in closely knit trees.
Horses that need a pasture to graze
In a dark stable must they spend their days?
Squirrels and foxes,the cooing dove,
The heron lazily flapping above,
What are they all doing living there?
They soon won't be if we don't care.
Copyright© Elva Knott, Moral Rights Asserted.
