Skylines up above my head
In the morning blue
Ghosts of passing jet-planes
Travelling somewhere new

Wish I was up there with them
Going some place warm
Far from England’s winter shores
On this cold and icy morn


Travelling smile

DSCN1263 - Version 2

Travelling again
Dawn’s in sight
Morning heady
End of night

Stevie playing
Feel okay
Going to be
A lovely day


Moonlight on the water


Moonlight on the water
Sea moves swiftly in
Winter winds behind me
Light is feint and dim

Echos from the evening
Of surf unseen but heard
Watching as the water
Awakens, feelings stirred

Behind the rocks, breakwater
Buried in dark sand
Hiding on the shoreline
From the sea’s strong hand

Moonlight on the water
Night falls swift and deep
High up on the shingle hills
It’s time to go to sleep



Lawress Hall 22.1.13 44

Long shadows on a blanket, white
Laid silent from a still, clear night
Harsh lying in the morning light
Cold against my brow

Iced fingers on a shimmering morn
Crystals on the covered lawn
Stark reminder, chilling born
The winter with me now




Wordplay is a marvellous thing
Finding ways to rhyme
It needs patience and vocabulary
And occasionally time

Syllabic sequencing is key
For some words just don’t fit
They need to flow right off the page
Needing humour, yes; and wit

Punctuation is important
But I don’t let it bother me
I want the words to do their thing
For the reader, don’t you see?

Thematics, they don’t matter much
(You can write ’bout anything)
It’s more important that the end result
Should make one smile and sing

So I’ll often read aloud the words
I’ve written when I’m done
For it’s important that they work for me
And give you, the reader, fun


Lucy’s gulls


I felt disinclined to write today
Not sure why that should be
For there’s plenty going on around
Just nothing that grabs me

The one thing I keep thinking of
Is a photo published by
a friend on FaceBook earlier on
which made me smile and sigh

It was one of seagulls in the sun
Flocking overhead
So rather than write more today
I’ll publish that instead


Gull photo by Lucy Ashworth

The Ice Hotel

Newark North Gate station 21.1.13 2

Fashioned from the snows of old
The Ice Hotel is jolly cold
Upon the chill its fame is sold
Enter in if you be bold


The inspiration for today’s little ditty originates from the ‘Poets Corner‘ WordPress blog. The challenge – to simply write a poem about The Ice Hotel. Open each year from December through April, The Ice Hotel is built from snow and ice taken from the River Tome in Jukkasjarvi, Northern Sweden. The whole hotel and most of its furnishings and fittings is made entirely from ice and maintained at an average temperature of minus 5º Celsius. It has a bar and restaurant, bedrooms for 100 guests and a chapel.

Previous Older Entries


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 691 other followers

%d bloggers like this: