Photos-Poems-Haiku

My wee contribution to UK Mental Health (Anxiety) Awareness Week Unbidden Here they come,Unbidden, drip by drip,Those old thoughtsWe thought were lost,But were only hidden.They are gossamer,The merest touch,They can do no harm,So let them pass,Let them drift. There is more Then what has been,The world still turns,Horizons still stretchBeneath the sun. Derek Ross

A wee childhood reminisce from my childhood, which is always a dangerous thing for me 😱. The Broadstone is a stony beach at my home town of Stranraer, South West Scotland. BROADSTONEThe loch was in the wind,Sea-salted and sharpAs a razor shell. We inhaled it all,Filled our lungs untilOur breath bled the sea.The tide broke… Continue reading BROADSTONE

Let the Forest…Let the Forest take you,Choose a path and walk,As deep as you need.There is no hurry,Time will take its time,Let it flow around you.Above all, listen,Life is always there,Silence is never so.And when you emerge,Embrace what was sown,Let it grow, let it go. Derek Ross

I have no excuse for these apart from the fact I enjoyed all the “jiggery pokery “!

Quiet Harbours In quiet harbours,Boats are breaking,Turning to rust, Slowly dissolvingInto the seaThat bore them.Their names peel off,Float away to joinThose lost fleets.Circling above,A lone gull triesTo call them back. Derek Ross

The ChangeThe sky is soft,A fine snow driftsLike gossamer.Birds lift,Become silhouettes,They sense the squall,That gathers,Quietly.There’s a stingIn the air,A sharp burnOn chilled skin.Eyes waterAnd trees runOn the edgeOf vision.The sun is a pearl,Slowly settling Into a sedimentOf greying cloud.So it begins,That slow slide,From one world,To another. Derek Ross

Must be going through a minimalist grey period 😱 Enjoyed the process though.

UnfrozenThe sun is a candle,above the frozen wood,frost becomes breath,leaves crackle white.This place is soul deep,a still cleansing,that cannot last,as light creeps higher.The world drips in,trees begin to melt,behind a row of pine,a rowan bleeds. Derek Ross

Old WoodDown by the wood that hides the river,a startle of birds cackle skywards.A young deer, the colour of hazel,becomes an arrow, pierces the depthsof waist high grass by the waiting field.Two kites weave a net in a thermal,hoping to snare the unwary.Rabbits dive for cover, their tails flashof dangers they sense around them.The shadow… Continue reading Old Wood

The Same SeaWe’ve all done it,inscribed our names in the sand,right there, on the edge of the sea.And watched, as waves rolled in,wiping our pages, washingour marks into the depths.That’s when we sensethose vast oceans, full of words,too many for our mouths to form.The seas have their own vocabulary,a mix of tongues, swirls of meaning,all… Continue reading The Same Sea