Sunset Silhouette

The sun goes down across the sound

The sky across the water shimmers

I see your footsteps in the sand

Your fading silhouette gets dimmer

In this moment my dreams abound

For fear of loss recedes and withers

My love for you is strong as hewn

From landscapes framed in moon.

 

Alison Jean Hankinson.

 

this was really hard, it was for d’Verse and we were challenged to write in a  form called Ottava Rima. This was beautiful Morecambe Bay Sands at sunset on Friday 26 May 2017.18664659_10212871462006798_1966529825697143023_n

Fear receding….

The transition to seaside life has been a total joy. However dark and difficult the long days of winter were with their obstacles barriers and uncertainties and the fears that we would somehow fail. There was always a small smattering of hope that things would eventually work out for the better. We have been able to rekindle our love for our own culture and connections, track back through pathways and places that were already part of our story and re-establish the significance of our own place in this wonderful landscape.

The move in springtime to Heysham has been a wonderful and welcome move into what promises to be a pleasant phase of our lives. The sea and scenery are endless sources of peace, calm and serenity. The joy to be able to walk and witness this place in all its beauty and glory for just a small part of each day is genuine food for the soul. There is a song by Groove Armada it is such a seaside song, it talks of sand-dunes and salty air and it is just the sentiment of this place, a seaside town resting on its laurels and trying to reinvent itself as the coastal jewel in the crown resting at the foothills of the Lake District. Mountains on the horizon, resplendent in a salmon sunset, windmills stretching out to sea as far as the eye can see,  ancient history carved into the headland and wilderness, wind and wavespray.

Mid tide Glasson Dock

In sprightly spring-time sunshine

Fear and dark thoughts ebb

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

 

This is my late offering for Haibun Monday and is about fear receding.

d”verse Haibun

 

oops just missed the link by 35 minutes…

The Ghost of Winter past.

I remember the soft snowflakes

Delicate as lace

Framed by the cold frigid moonlight

Falling gently to the ground.

Shrouding the world in a pure white blanket

Which sought to cleanse another winter

 

But pure white turned to grey

And the peaceful night became another dirty day.

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

snow-1350948_1280

This is my contribution for d’Verse open night.

The image is from pixabay,

Openlink night

 

 

Windmills and wave-spray.

This changing landscape

Is food for the soul

Misty moody blues beyond the ruins of St Patrick’s

Hues of sand and stone beyond the headland’s horizon

The mysterious mudflats home to the sandwalker of Morecambe Bay.

Wish you were here Heysham.

Alison Jean Hankinson

Hall all this is my postcard….d’Verse poetics

Kestrel

common_kestrel_in_flight

Virtue her’s is beauty

She hesitates then pounces

And in a flounce of majesty

A reverie of gracefulness

Swoops to savage the delicacies of a dew-sodden dawn

Reap the rewards of a cold rancid morn.

 

Narcotic silence

Renders love unto my soul

Removes the talons from my heart

Her beauty numbs the pain of death.

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

d’Verse open link

This is for the open link night at d’verse.

The image is  Common Kestrel in flight from wikimedia.

Transcendental Glory at Morecambe Superdrome

Echoes in our heart and footprints in the sand

Staccato and tremolo of Tijuana brass

Morecambe Superdome with Don Lusher, a silver black Scirocco

Alan Tomlinson Conductor and lead of our bluesy big-time band

Children of Sanchez, superb shrill of trumpet solo

Transcendental glory in times gone by.

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

This was my treasure for the poetics challenge. I wish I could let you hear Alan Tomlinson playing Children of Sanchez…. mind you to hear him play anything was a gift. His repertoire and range were exceptional and his passion for music and desire to pass it on to anyone especially young people were equally as exceptional. I played with the LCBB from about 1981-1985….

It was the most magical period of my young existence. As a young trombonist and big band member it was the pinnacle and zenith of my life and career. We played at the Morecambe Superdrome and supported Don Lusher…Stardust was his melody… and I had made it. This was the moment of exaltation when you know that it just doesn’t get any better and Alan Tomlinson hit that note in Children of Sanchez and you know this is the moment in life that you were born to notice. Transcendental Glory at Morecambe Superdrome.

Prose poem at the bar….all at once….it was a complex week… my memento..

Web about Alan Tomlinson…

Stuart GRILLS AND ALAN tOMLINSON

memento

prose poetry

 

For both poetics and prose at the bar…

 

Terraceville-Living in the Valley.

The train clatters down the track

Clickety clack clickety clack

To deliver the coal and slack

From the pithead.

 

Smoke emanates from the dirty stack

Wives hanging washing out the back

From the outhouses of the back to backs

In Terraceville our suburban mill-town.

 

Kids play in the street and no- one cares

Mothers holler for their offspring and no-one dares

Be late for supper. Free from care

Because they are always there,

And we are taught to share

With each other.

 

Got no money put it on tick

Misbehave and you get the stick

Get drunk Friday and you’ll be in the nick

In our suburban mill-town.

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

The photos are from the Peter Fisher Archive and gallery….and this was where I grew up.

Peter fisher gallery

 

This is an attempt…. of sorts for poetics….for d’Verse poetics… I am not sure I achieved…it was not something I normally do…but we are here to learn…. so I have given it a go.

d’verse poetics suburb