Maeve's Kitchen, remembering St Cuthbert's Way ...

I sat in the garden of Monkland, reading Raleigh's As you came from the Holy Land - 

Near me, upon the sun drenched lawn, lay Souky the cat, dreaming her silky dreams - 

White jets flew across the sky - 

Gracious plants adorned the garden - a wall was hidden by an arras of ivy - trees cast deep shadows - 

All around me was the vast city - 

I felt a precious hunger for the skyscapes I'd grown to love - 

Jay and Bridget were lunching with Italian cousins - 

I walked the streets of Clapton like a pilgrim - 

I saw shopkeepers with gentle brown eyes - a fountain sparkled in a pond - 

I sat in the courtyard of Maeve's Kitchen - 

Young women were whooping - their bearded boys wore sneakers -

I idled the late afternoon away, remembering the feel of wet sand upon my feet, the excited laughter of my companions - 

17.30

Saturday July 13 2015

Clapton

London

King Toadfish ...

I met Jay at Stoke Newington Common

-

Looking out the window of the bus, I saw street people robed in blankets - 

The pavements teemed with indifferent walkers - 

I was now deep in the evening city - the air was balmy, carrying different languages - 

We drove past a graveyard with cherubs blowing trumpets amidst the lichened stones - 

Within the hour I was dancing - 

Percy's band played joyous guiless music - 

Saxophones poured out golden notes - 

Percy smiled at his musicians like a kindly sage -

Dancing I forgot the terrible bright days ahead - 

My years were like silver ribbons tied in my hair - 

Percy's daughter leapt upon a table - she beckoned Jay to dance - 

Bravo I shouted - bravo - bravo !!!

00.45

Saturday 11 July 2015

Bun&Bar

Harringay

The Ship Room ...

The oval dinner table was set for eight - elegant plates caught the watery light -

A wind up gramophone had a golden horn -

Earlier, I'd seen a tail coat in the East Bedroom - 

A stuffed toy elephant lay upon a withered pillow - 

I'd read a letter written in the castle by Lytton Strachey -

Timid Lutyens he'd written - 

A diva closed her eyes in the Upper Gallery - 

A three masted ship sailed above the guests' tipsy heads - 

14.30

Thursday 9 July 2015

The Ship Room

Lindisfarne Castle

Holy Island 

The Sands ...

By the time we reached the causeway, it was low tide - 

Before us were the sands - The Pilgrim's Path was marked by a line of bleached poles - 

We walked barefoot under the vast sky - 

Pious shadows followed us - 

I held a small white shell in my hand - 

I saw the shapes of clouds in the water still covering the sands - 

11.45

Wednesday July 8 2015

Holy Island

 

A night in Wooler ...

After dinner, we looked for the tourist information centre - 

The high street was empty - low clouds hid the stars - 

A wind blew down from the high hills - 

The small shops were full of hopeful wares - 

We saw a second hand bookshop brimming with jolly thrillers -

I admired the gaudy cover of Eric Leyland's Flame and the King's Ransom - 

The spies are wearing hats Martin said -

In the bar of The Bull, barrel chested men played noisy dominoes - 

I stood upon the silent pavement, remembering how we'd seen Tom Tallon's Crag - 

The uplands had been close to heaven, the hill tops veiled in memory by the rain - 

22.00

Monday 6 July 2015

Wooler

The pine wood below Ell's Knowe ...

Walking up Elsdon Burn, below Ell's Knowe, we came upon a pine wood - 

The tall trees hoarded darkness under their branches - 

The ground beneath our feet was a pelt of bleached pine needles - 

It was like walking through the pinewood in the Lantern Waste - 

I half expected to see a faun, carrying an umbrella, looking for the children of Adam ...

11.00

Monday 6 July 2015

Below Ell's Knowe

Clouds above Kirk Yetholm ...

As we followed Bowmount Water towards Kirk Yetholm, I glanced upwards at the clouds  - 

Above Crookedshaws Hill, a vast wolf stretched out its vaporous paws -

Giants dissolved into misty chaos above Wideopen Hill - 

The sky darkened - 

Three swifts fell from heaven - 

Two noble horses with long curving eyelashes gazed out over the valley - 

A butterfly with wings of delicate brocade danced above the grass - 

I remembered the blue eyes of the man walking to John O Groats in memory of his wife - 

16.00

Sunday 5 July 2015

Kirk Yetholm