I burned bright

shone

shone light

back

to illuminate the moon

to cast an ethereal

glow

by which a

pair of owls

flew

their calls echoed

tooit twoo

sharply shrieked

amongst a small copse

of trees

 

I burned brightly

shone

shone light

across

a shaggy heather cropped

moor

dazzled diamonds drops

of dew encrusted

bracken leaves

unfurled majestically

fern tiaras

rising to crown

the high dale

 

I burned brightly

shone

shone light

far out to sea

bouncing back

of high white

wave caps

crashing back

on Flamborough head

shoals of mackerel

dive deep

out of the smell

of a solitary tar house

a hint of an old fate fated

from further up the coast

 

I burned bright

shone

shone light

through the past

over trees

moor and dale

over the empty waves

bare of cobles

and hard hands

to drag back in

heavy wet nets

as the shoals

of mackerel swim away

free

and one last tar smoke

house burns its last

lament

to  empty harbours

and bays

past fishermen smocks

now sold in tourist shops

 in Whitby

and Robin Hoods bay.

--
Posted By electroweb to electroweb on 3/15/2008 09:17:00 AM