Brisk breeze beguiles Winter sun warms the weariest of souls. Across the bay snow atop the Langdales. Gulls glide as eventide Sheds a subtle ombre orange sunset glow across the sheltered sands. Whisper me home.
© Alison Jean Hankinson
© Feature Image courtesy of Dave Hankinson
Here they silently speak my language
Share my passion for puns
Take pride in a past that is a portrait
Of my heritage and the story of my blood.
Here I belong
The names of the rivers and valleys and mountains
Are etched as clearly in my mind as the rugged landscapes
That call out my name on wild and windy mornings
and stir my restless spirit from its slumbers.
Irwell, Ribble, Eden, Lune
Here the waters wash away my whispers
Pendle, Cribden, Criffel, Shap
Here the shale and slate smooths away my fears.
©Alison Jean Hankinson
This is for d’Verse poetics.
