Welcome to my blog “Photos-Poetry-Haiku”. I hope you enjoy your visit. I am an Amateur Photographer / Poet from Dumfries in beautiful South West Scotland. I enjoy Minimalist Photography, sometimes single images, sometimes multiple images on a theme. Most images here will be in colour but I’ll include black and white images too. My poems… Continue reading Welcome
Crakaig Millhouse, Isle of UlvaThis is a hard island,History has ground outA past with a coarse grain.Here, in this broken mill,Two millstones lie mute,Their edges like parted lips,Lichen clinging like crumbs.Now, only the wind scrapes,Only dark crows scavenge.Ferns feed on emptiness,Drink the damp of old tears,Bury the stones of past lives.Yet, see how those clouds… Continue reading Crakaig Millhouse, Isle of Ulva
ULBHA Ulbha is a small island just of the coast of the Isle of Mull, Scotland. It is accepted that Ulva derives from two Old Norse words, ulfr meaning “wolf”, and ey meaning “island”. Ulva is rendered as ULBHA ( pronounced as OOL-a VA ) in Gaelic. It has a long and fascinating history. It… Continue reading Ulbha
Eyemouth HarbourThe morning gulls are soaringover Eyemouth, their calls breakupon the harbour wall, drowningthe murmur of a waiting sea.I’m staring at the blue hullof the “Heroine”, recallingthe faded black and white photosthat line the walls of cafe and pub.A haven this was, back then,ranks of full-masted fishing boats,spectres of horses and fisherfolkas they plied the… Continue reading Eyemouth Harbour
Palace Square, St. Petersburg.I remember teenagersdancing in Palace Square,how I smiled at the hopeI thought I saw there.Or the uniformed cadet,applying her lipstick,ready for the weekend.Was it just a veneer?Let us look past despair,trust that the dance remainsand the hope in young eyeswill someday blossom……and be true.
Seems to have become a favourite subject for me these days. Just love the textures, chipped paint and abstract shapes to be found. Get some strange looks though!
BluebellsBluebells are burning the shadowsThat lurk in every cornerOf the awakening forest.The old brown is dying away,Sinking back into the earth,Wiping our eyes of its memory.Why then, does our doubt linger?Why do we always hesitateBefore we turn a corner?Hope is the most fickle masterWhen darkness covers over.Yet, time wins every time, look……Bluebells!Derek Ross