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Winter Solstice.

winter-

 for those we love, both home and (far) away.

1. WALKING
The paths are mud slides
browned, rain bombed bracken
and a grassy soup to walk on.
Small stones, jagged shark’s teeth
submerged underneath
a swirling, relentless maelstrom.
But, just for a while,
Carningli is kinder today,
a watery sunlight underway,
and a ghosted moon, cloud slipped,
the sky a silvered duvet.
And so we three, slithered, mooched
occasionally tripped,
on this, the shortest day.

2. THINKING
Night has fallen now,
the storm pillows above, ready to rehearse
the current seasons’ lashing curse.
Hey ho! the wind and the rain.
Best behave brightly, for here it comes
oh! yet again.
Tomorrow though,
the light is on the turn,
the days will brighten,
the mood sweeten
and here’s hoping that
many of us will emerge
blinking,
springlike,
unbowed, unbeaten.

Preseli

3. REMEMBERING
For others now,
they have passed the point of no return
the Solstice rung, a December dirge,
a sorrowing song across the mountain,
a pausing, pondering reflection
above the cairn.
No chance of reinvention.
Their lights have set now, stilled, extinguished
at least on this side of our universe.
But winter memories are yet distinguished,
and whilst their candles no longer burn,
for lives well lived,
the memories,
like the Solstice waters flow,
and they are not, nor will be
thus diminished.

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Marc Mordey

Marc Mordey

Marc Mordey lives in Newport, Pembrokeshire, in a house overlooking the sea. Many of his poems are inspired by place, a sense of landscape. Also by his perspectives on living, loving and losing, as well as the impact of contemporary events, both political and social. Marc has published one collection of poetry, Marcism Today. Marc has a poetry blog, http://themarcistagenda.wordpress.com

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