Today’s photo a personal favourite. A lone tree stood on Oliver’s Castle in front of the Bloody Ditch it looks over Wiltshire fearing not the sun or cloud.
The Dance of the Mournful Land
In that mournful land beyond
Where our soul is captured by
(Where we go dancing on and on
to a bittersweet lullaby)
A glittering messenger calling
Dispelling fear of growing old
To lead us on, never falling
Dancing ghosts in fairy dust of old
Witness our stately procession
I shall go there, if I must
To find fulfilling expression
To answer wishful thought and lust
Forever dancing, dancing round
Having done so, having sought
Celestial hollows, respite unfound
Exhausted we sink, spirit fraught
From eternal waltz of stars
Begging forlornly for release
From courtly dancing lit by Mars
And shall we meet, shall we cease?
Past lives pinning hope to our side
By enemy’s old anchor
Or distant friends who greet and gently chide
Our new-made spirit form sans rancour
To save us from the star storm
As earthly longing is remaining
And we were never born
Clinging to life once sustaining
© Kit Wells
We Stand
We stand
Hand in hand
In arm in arm
Shoulder to shoulder
Looking to unknown futures
In defiance
Of the past
We once more place behind us
Hoping for something better
We stand
An eye taken for an eye
Ear for an ear
Our mouths full of snide
Full of snicker
And we move our hands
Place them on our hearts
Commit them to one more broken promise
We stand
We pray
We hope
For something better
Richard Downes
The Beckoning
Look hard enough
Japetto signals
Froggy …
Loners joined at the
Tip of dusk
Wendy Young
I set root
A single tree
To weather
A coming storm
The sun’s dim glow Behind the cloud, looking
Somewhat forlorn
I hold fast
Upon the hill
Waiting for
Some sign
That if I wait
And keep my head
Somehow the day
Is mine
Ivan Riches
Detrich's Weblog 
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