March Strolls

Thank you for taking the time to have a look at my latest poetry collection. This month I have a real mix for you ranging from a medieval tower in sleepy Paull to a fiery sunset at the birthplace of two of the gunpowder plotters. I hope you enjoy what I have to share.

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I was inspired to write the first three poems after taking a stroll around Victoria Pier in Hull the other week. The Humber was drenched in weak afternoon sunshine, casting a beautiful glow over the river and the many flower boxes filled with colourful primroses sparked my imagination into life.

Stark grey clouds,

Puffs of pewter smoke

Slowly evaporate

The tears and pain

Of stormy seas

Replaced by

The laughter

Of gentle waves.

The golden sun

Casts a magical glow

Over the ripples below.

Insignificant, lost,

A silhouette boat

Drifts back on 

Course and

Finds a way home.

Pink is passion,

Pink is bold,

Pink is a flower 

With a heart of gold.

Pink is vibrant,

Pink is alive,

Pink is a glow

When I close my eyes.

Pink is for ever,

Pink is sincere,

Pink is a dancer

In a primrose dream.

A splash of bright paint

On a canvas of green,

No insipid shades

Flamboyant and free.

Matte kaleidoscope,

Cool purple haze,

Layered yet smooth,

Rotating clock face.

The sun shines out of

Her primrose heart,

A bright yellow chorus

Is singing out loud.

The next poem was written about a historic building in East Yorkshire called Paull Holme Tower. It is all that remains of a 15th century manor house once owned by the Holme family. 

I found this interesting video showing you up close views of the tower. It is absolutely fascinating!

Standing proud on a rugged hill

The tower is all that remains,

You were once the centrepiece

Of a grand medieval estate.

You were never intended to be alone
All around you could not be saved.
The sun lights up terracotta bricks
A reminder of your glory days.

As I close my eyes I picture your moat,
Swirling round you, keeping you safe.
I wonder who walked through your doors,
Warmed their hands by your fire place.

I wonder what battles you survived,

Who watched you from afar?

Who looked through your ornate windows

As the moon danced beside the stars?

The sleepy village of Welwick is another remote spot on the banks of the Humber. I was drawn towards taking a drive there several weeks ago when I noticed a fiery sunset materialising.

An interesting fact about Welwick is it was the birthplace of two of the gunpowder plotters - John and Kit Wright. A sculpture was unveiled in 2013 near to the farm where the brothers were raised commemorating the village's links to this historic event.

Descending darkness
wraps a cloak around
decreasing shadows,
dissolving clouds.
Slippery hillside,
a haphapzard fence,
like an African plain,
stark silhouettes
against a backdrop
of blazing sky.
Awake or dreaming
new horizons defined.

Spurn Point is a truly unique and amazing place. When you spend most of your time in built up areas it is easy to forget we live on an island here in the UK. A visit to Spurn most certainly brings everything back into perspective.

Where the ripples 

of the river

meet the rushing, 

crashing sea

and gently 

bubbling mud flats

meet a sandy 

pebbled beach.

One story ends, 

another starts,

wiry grass 

waves goodbye

as the endless splashing waves

mirror the 

colours of the sky.

Remnants of a concrete bunker,

lonely war time hideaway,

echoes of brave 

soldiers' voices

whispers carried 

by the waves.

Lonely lighthouse 

standing proud,

guiding light 

and sailor's friend.

Surrounded by 

the changing tides,

windswept jutting 

island end.

No poetry collection of mine would be complete without a little verse inspired by the flowers in my garden. When I saw a clump of Christmas roses bowing their heads I immediately felt compelled to put pen to paper.

As you lift

your unsure head

I see delicate

lines of pain

etched into

the paper thin folds

of your pale

and fragile face.

Open your heart

and speak to me

in a whisper, 

an echo, a song.

Don't be afraid

to raise your head

you've been hiding

for too long.

The final poem in this collection was written after a walk on the beach at Withernsea. 

The tide is slowly retreating,

Distant lapping, foaming waves,

Revealing a vast deserted beach

In shades of sand and beige.

Glinting in the weak sunshine

In a basin of water and coal,

Outlined by reflected shadows,

An explosion of colourful stones.

I see hints of ruby claret,

Emerald green and sapphire blue,

Interspersed with mottled garnet,

Tones of garnet peeping through.

Haphazardly positioned,

Coloured rocks upon the beach,

Irregular, multi-faceted

Waiting for the kiss of the sea.

© Jill Webb March 2020

Winter Colour

Over the last month I have written a series of poems based around the theme of spring being around the corner. I have been overwhelmed by some of the positive feedback I've received when I've posted excerpts taken from the poems on Twitter. Now I am happy to share the full collection with you here on my blog.

I hope they add a splash of sunshine to your winter days.

Hidden Stars

I almost walked past

Without noticing them,

Two tiny white flowers

Like chicks in a nest.

They hesitate before

Lifting their heads,

Then open their beaks

To sing from the hedge.

With petals unfurling

And colours of spring

There are butterflies

Waiting in their wings.

The Painted Ladies

They are all dressed up,

They are loud and proud,

They are setting the room

And my world on fire.

They are painted ladies

Wearing bright lipstick,

They may not be heard

But demand to be seen.

They are extrovert,

Determined and bold,

Flamboyant yet cool,

The stars of the show.

Velvet Smile

You cannot fail 

to be amazed

how quickly 

things can change,

From a seemingly 

lifeless pitted bulb

glossy green 

leaves appear.

Then almost in 

the blink of an eye

exquisite buds 

are born,

trumpets play 

a fanfare

as majestic 

flowers unfold.

Daffodil Waves

The yellow glow of spring time

Emanating from each stem

Fills my heart with sunshine,

A treasured long lost friend.

Each petal holds a golden key

To doors I thought were locked,

Waving their arms gracefully

They have been away too long.

A golden ray of joy and hope

Through misty rain and clouds,

I see life through a different lens

When daffodils are in flower.

The Cherubs

Bare branches, brittle fingers

Reaching up towards the light,

Swaying, dancing in the wind,

Weaving patterns in the sky.

My eyes fall like a raindrop

To the ground beneath my feet,

Nestled safely in their beds

On a cradle of green leaves.

Smiling cherubs dressed in pink,

Refreshed by morning dew,

Unfolding buds of hope,

Rays of sunshine peeping through.

Daisy Chains

The winter grass is alive

With tiny splashes of white,

Feather like petals as

Soft as a swan's back

Turning back hands of time.

Each pink tip tells a story

Of distant summer days,

Of butterflies dancing,

Of carefree laughter

And making daisy chains.

© Jill Webb February 2020

       

Iceland

Last September I was lucky enough to tick an item off my bucket list by visiting Iceland. The country lived up to all expectations. With some of the awe inspiring sights we saw it would have been impossible for me not to write one or two poems. I would like to share them with you.

The first poem was inspired by the magnificent Dettifoss waterfall.

Match stick like people

Overpowered humbled,

Gazing into timeless depths

Of endless gushing spray.

The sights and sounds

Demand you stand

And stare in awe

At crystal drops,

Ice coated patterns

Cascading displays

Painted by nature’s hand.

A gigantic symphony,

Fills your head

Yet soothes your heart.

Clouds above, clouds below

It’s hard to differentiate.

Rushing and crashing

Against rugged rocks

Here to tell the tale

Long after we have gone.

The waterfall was so powerful that a spectacular rainbow formed on the spray coming off it. It was an amazing sight.

Translucent pastel arch
From the heavens above
Rainbow orange, rainbow blue
Softly whisper words of love.

Illuminating sunshine
Dissolve into the spray
Make a wish, blow a kiss
Before you fade away.

A trip to Iceland would not be complete without seeing a glacier. We decided to go one step further and walk across one! It was one of the most humbling experiences of my life.

Folds of ice packed tight

Timeless ice blue mounds

Connect without wire

No quick fix to be found.

Glistening in the light

A million precious stones

Stretching to the clouds,

Undulating barren roads.

To stand upon a glacier

With arms outstretched wide

Defies space, time and logic,

Adds new meaning to life.

As we were driving around the Skútustaðahreppur region of Iceland we noticed what appeared to be bursts of steam coming from an area we passed. We immediately went to investigate further and were privileged to witness up close what I later found out are fumaroles. For information, a fumarole is a vent in the earth's surface from which steam and volcanic gases are emitted.

I don't think I have ever seen anything as incredible. It was like something out of a science fiction movie and definitely good material to write a poem about.

Volcanic desert,

Steaming rocky mass,

Bottomless cauldron,

No future, no past.

Sulphuric spray 

Staining misshapen rocks,

Scorched white and yellow,

Science fiction backdrop.

Active yet lifeless,

Shades of barren brown,

Hypnotic, spellbinding,

Ash covered ground.

Unfeeling aliens

Dropped in from outer space,

The blue sky above

Looks strangely out of place.

As our plane took off and I waved goodbye to Iceland I felt compelled to write one final poem to end the trip. It really was a once in a lifetime experience and one that will stay with me for ever. 

When I want a little time

To clear my troubled mind,

I close my eyes and float away

Until I reach the clouds.

In my elevated state

The world seems far behind,

There is no better therapy

Than floating on a cloud.

© Jill Webb February 2020

       

January Flowers

Welcome to my latest poetry collection. Because the first month of the year can be rather a bleak one I decided to take photos of various flowering plants as I noticed them shoot up both inside and outside, then write a poem about each one. 

I hope the poetry adds a ray of sunshine to your winter days. 

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First Snowdrops

A blanket of damp earth
Hiding all signs of life
Naked branches painted
On a canvas of grey skies.

Peeping through the bracken
The winter ballerinas raise
Their graceful white heads,
They give a butterfly like wave.

Suddenly the grey skies
Fade into a silver mist,
The snow queens are smiling
As they blow me a kiss.


Winter Jasmine

Gently refreshed
By winter dew,
Smiling faces
Peeping at you
Through a mesh,
A giant bird's nest
Bursts of sunshine
And happiness.
Through grey skies
And misty views
These winter stars
Always shine for you.

Hyancinths

She's a vision in white,

with sun dancing on

her sleek, satin petals.

A fountain of stars

and chiming bells,

she fills the room

with intricate charm.

A shimmering bride

with a bodice of pearls

and fine embroidery.

Her beauty shines

from deep within,

And when you see

her touching display

everything but her 

beauty will dissolve

in a fragrant cloud

of peace and harmony.

Nestled in 

their rich green beds,

a satin tapestry,

a white cascade

of tubular bells

a fragrant harmony.

Campanula

They must have appeared
When my back was turned,
On the back of a sunbeam,
Or a breath of fresh air.

Their delicate leaves
Are like butterfly wings,
An intricate patchwork
Etched into pure silk.

A camera click
Of a summer cascade,
These stars are shining
Through a purple blue haze.

© Jill Webb January 2020

       

Sunset Poems

Firstly I would like to wish all of my readers a happy new year. Thank you to everyone who showed an interest in my poetry in 2019. I have plenty more lined up for the new decade.

For my first post of 2020 I thought I would add a series of poems I've written over the last few months, all of which have been inspired by sunsets at various points on the River Humber in East Yorkshire. I hope you enjoy them.

Untouchable,

majestic

ball of fire

eclipsed by clouds.

Golden ripples

like a pathway

leading to

an unknown land.

Where anything

is possible

and dreams

can come true, 

across the 

sparkling water

I extend

my hand to you.

Mesmerizing 

golden orb

touch down 

and kiss the sea

set the sky 

and my senses on fire

rejuvenate 

the deserted beach.

Illuminating 

heavenly light,

new horizons

revealed.

Chameleon clouds

pink, orange, blue,

help me to see

things differently.

The fading reflections

of all that could have been

shimmer gently in the wind

like the remnants of a dream.

Slowly gazing upwards

blue skies smile on me

and pale winter sunshine

gently dries my tears.

Show me new dimensions

break the chains, free my mind.

I'm drawing strength

from the explosion in the sky.

The contours of mudflats,

tiny islands bathed in light.

Remoulded, reshaped

by the rising falling tides.

Dusk is falling all around

in shades of pink and gold,

a lonesome bird swoops down,

a silhouette against the glow.

As the night starts to fall

the sky bursts into flames,

revealing hidden depths,

no two days are the same.

The setting sun

sheds a teardrop 

of gold into

the river of dreams

and as the wind

caresses my face

for the first time

I can breathe.

I cannot reshape

the advancing clouds

or control 

the onshore breeze,

but I will wait

for as long as it takes

for the river 

to flow back to me.

A thousand whispered secrets

are swept away to sea

on the ever changing tides,

by the ever changing breeze.

Tentacle like branches

sprawl across a wooden fence

clumps of rugged, windswept grass - 

my journey's start, journey's end.

As I push the gate open

the sea is bathed in golden light,

knowing I can go no further

peace and sunlight flood my mind.

©Jill Webb January 2020