From Fjord to Fjord

From fjord to fjord
Under an eternal sun we hiked.
In that perpetual golden light
Alone, together.
There in the far North.

Through bilberry fields of bounty
Up sheer crumbly rock faces
Down into pristine valleys
Wading cold streams
Plodding along sandy beaches

From fjord to fjord
The wind roared at us
Hyperborean spirits visiting
Sprinkling their tears
Laying down their fog

‘Ere the waves lapped
Upon the shore
Carrying us away once more

Grassland Oceans

Marching, marching, across the plains
They are, in fact
Not at all very flat,
Rolling, undulating seas of green.
Oceans upon which wildlife surf
Endlessly grazing upon the turf
Here we walk,
                      very small
Past burned trees, wooded copses
All that we have upon our back
Something primal lurks beyond each crest
Always the horizon there, a luring test

In the Land of the Ice Maidens

Dawn’s first rays embrace our faces
Creeping out from behind the clouds
He smiles down upon us.
Yet the ice maidens still shriek and howl.
About us they dart and fly, we brace.
Gripping rock, ice, each other.

This is their home, this lonely place
We came upon it rudely
Darkest hours of the morn, with all at rest
A clanking, clambering, climbing party
Our voices bark and rise in the quiet
Betraying us to them

As we begin to ascend their rocky crags
Up their glistening fields
Through their looming colours
They awake. Nipping at us, pricking our exposed fingers.
Singing to us in the heat of moment
To release bodies to them, their icy claws.

Father Sun’s warm rays strengthen.
They retreat to hide
In swirling clouds
He still chases them
Grants us once more this special place
The warm mountain light bathes our faces.

Skipper’s Saga

Atop the Deck he stands
Knees in motion with
Deepest blue swells
His hair flying wild

This vessel of Oak and Pine
Meets the deepest troughs
As men speak to the Divine
Spray and froth.

He roars into the Void
A binding golden pact
And the sky calls back
Crew laugh at his tact

Atop the Deck he grasps
White horses race
Beautiful craft
Wills her to keep pace

The Green Man and the Wild Man

I am of the wind and the trees
Haunting your lands for you are gone
Away to where none knows not
                  Know this.
                  Your eternal greenery withers
Abandoned once you left the trees
         Choking on cities’ fumes
            The wind, dies down.
For I am the essence of this place
                     I exist.
 As sure as the seas do crash
 Upon the ancient shores of memory.

 I am of the rivers and hills
 Slipping away down the streams
                   Chemically Forgotten
                             Flowing to
                  But Once
  A fair maiden’s hand outward reach
                 The mere, the loch, the llyn
 Upon the mountains I watch as that ancient
 King does grasp the Sword.

 But it only glimmers there
 Just light and shimmers
 It fades out of essence

I am of the wind and the trees
Haunting your lands for you are gone…