despite the season’s darkness

today the sea is blue
the sky’s gates lie open onto heaven
Angels are amongst us
riding horses in the waves
dancing with every grain of sand

A. H (15th December 2020)

the year is dying

bring me fire, wine a dancing throng
pyre piled dead wood high
pruned hard this seasons’s dormant depth
light’s long labour so begun
a twinkle in our eyes
we mark in hope this dark gestation

this poem is continued here

advent

near deepest darkness
years of growth cut back, attacked
not academic
to wonder of light’s rebirth
pray true gleams coming may yet thrive

(c) A. Hurford / K. H-H (2 December 2018)