wind | Mercury Ascends

Tanka: Which Way The Wind?

Posted on July 26 by Leofwine Tanner

Photo by Kevin McCartney. Pexels.com

Where is this heading?
Where have I been before this?
Some things I don’t know
Wind causes the flag to wave
but no one can see the wind

copyright Leofwine Tanner 2019

Poem: The Painter

Posted on May 23 by Leofwine Tanner

beachlovers1 - Edited

Climbing the dune,
wind heavy in our faces.
We squint (or do we smile?),
our laughs and quips
diffuse in the air.

Young legs carry you
ahead to the summit,
where tufts of green cling
to an existence. Then you’re
a sudden lithe silhouette

against a racing sky.
I revel in your victory;
your gentle hand hauls me
up close to ocean eyes,
an elfin smile, teeth

pristine like breakers
on the distant, crashing
shore, that white noise
filling our ears.
To look into you

is to look as men
have done for centuries.
Unchanging heart,
you’re the pearl left
nestling in filth.

So take a look –
can anyone steal time?
An hour here or there,
we leave our footprints,
no foothold anywhere.

I am the painter of this shore –
you are the model.
Again and again,
we return to wrestle
in familiar hues;

deep alizarin crimson,
yellow ochre, phthalo blue,
making it real. Stay in this
moment, we bless and bless.
It has to be you.

copyright Leofwine Tanner 2019 and 2011

Haiku Poem – Everyday Philosophy

Posted on May 14 by Leofwine Tanner

Hanging in the sun
A breeze is my companion
Elemental friends

Leofwine Tanner 2019

Poem ‘Bede’

Posted on June 10, 2012 by Leofwine Tanner

Bede

It wasn’t at Jarrow where I sensed you
but on Bamburgh’s raging shore,
among the seaweed and razor shells
on gull peppered sands,
its castle brooding behind me
like a huge chiseled tomb.

North waves were scrambling,
spilling memories of guttural voices
disguised in flushing sound;
cries of songs, harps and old tales lost,
fragments I could almost hear
when I turned my head into the wind.

And who was the black figure
bent against the breeze,
absorbing sharp light
on that blinding beach?
I struggled through the dunes,
the little islands of sparse grass
and pygmy flowers —
but you were gone,
extant only in memory,
my boundless imagination,
and in your books
which carry me through centuries
on a primal wave,
each time I read your words

Poem and image © copyright df barker 2012

Poem ‘Sea Wall’

Posted on June 9, 2012 by Leofwine Tanner

The Wash, as seen looking west from Heacham, in Norfolk, just south of Hunstanton (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Sea Wall

Stand and look from here,
you can see the earth’s curve,
a sea-levelled land
bereft of its mother.

Shells we have found
while the silt blew away,
powdered by droughts
and the pitiless wind.

Stand here with me
at the high spring tide—
you know the stark sea
will swell all over this again

Poem ‘Beachcombing’

Posted on May 24, 2012 by Leofwine Tanner

Beachcombing

We set out one morning
after the rain had cleared.
Not a breath of wind,
loose clothes sticking to my skin.
Our intention was to search
the shallow beach,
stretching so far ahead of us
towards lights on low, murky cliffs—
baleful beacons through the mist.
“Stop there!” you said
and took that picture of me,
my trousers rolled up;
never the most fetching sight.
“Walking on water,” that’s
what you called it right away:
Maybe this was the closest
we ever got to heaven

Haiku ‘Trinity’

Posted on May 21, 2012 by Leofwine Tanner

Trinity

Scent of sweet woodsmoke
Beauty in indignation
Fresh ascetic breeze

Where is this heading? Where have I been before this? Some things I don’t know Wind causes the flag to wave but no one can see the wind

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Climbing the dune, wind heavy in our faces. We squint (or do we smile?), our laughs and quips diffuse in the air.

Young legs carry you ahead to the summit, where tufts of green cling to an existence. Then you’re a sudden lithe silhouette

against a racing sky. I revel in your victory; your gentle hand hauls me up close to ocean eyes, an elfin smile, teeth

pristine like breakers on the distant, crashing shore, that white noise filling our ears. To look into you

is to look as men have done for centuries. Unchanging heart, you’re the pearl left nestling in filth.

So take a look – can anyone steal time? An hour here or there, we leave our footprints, no foothold anywhere.

I am the painter of this shore – you are the model. Again and again, we return to wrestle in familiar hues;

deep alizarin crimson, yellow ochre, phthalo blue, making it real. Stay in this moment, we bless and bless. It has to be you.

Rate this:

Share this:

Like this:

Rate this:

Share this:

Like this:

Rate this:

Share this:

Like this:

Rate this:

Share this:

Like this:

Rate this:

Share this:

Like this:

Rate this:

Share this:

Like this:

Where is this heading?
Where have I been before this?
Some things I don’t know
Wind causes the flag to wave
but no one can see the wind

Climbing the dune,
wind heavy in our faces.
We squint (or do we smile?),
our laughs and quips
diffuse in the air.

Young legs carry you
ahead to the summit,
where tufts of green cling
to an existence. Then you’re
a sudden lithe silhouette

against a racing sky.
I revel in your victory;
your gentle hand hauls me
up close to ocean eyes,
an elfin smile, teeth

pristine like breakers
on the distant, crashing
shore, that white noise
filling our ears.
To look into you

is to look as men
have done for centuries.
Unchanging heart,
you’re the pearl left
nestling in filth.

So take a look –
can anyone steal time?
An hour here or there,
we leave our footprints,
no foothold anywhere.

I am the painter of this shore –
you are the model.
Again and again,
we return to wrestle
in familiar hues;

deep alizarin crimson,
yellow ochre, phthalo blue,
making it real. Stay in this
moment, we bless and bless.
It has to be you.