Poetry: Ken Allan Dronsfield

Ken Allan Dronsfield

Into the Rye Swale

Warm humid nights
clouds marking time
spirits adrift in shadows
summer dreams hushed
sporadic lightning bugs
mimic the twinkling stars
deer feed at the treeline
pond frogs sing baritone
crickets echo white noise
a bottle of wine breathing
dogs bark by the old farm
faeries patiently whisper
of haunting misty dances
bats flutter in the moonlight
rye swale bows to the wind
owls chat from barn to wood
life goes on in these meadows
hand in mine, her kisses await
gentle hugs, perfume essence
wafts to a wanton tranquility.

Sigh of Tranquility

As a brook winds its way
from the high mountains
through a dark forest like
a long coiled serpent.
Little falls and rapids
sing sonnets of water's
love of raucous festive
rides enroute to the sea.
From the little bridges or
logs across the creeks,
we watch with delight
as the dew Faeries skim
along the calm ponds or
gentle eddies at sunset.
Sprinkling droplets with
magic dust covering all
the flowers, grass and
leaves in trees with a
welcome drink at night.
My heart is always there;
wrapped in an icy breath
exhaled into twilight's air
Walking the pathway home
we sigh, tranquility is here.

Turquoise Tsunamis

Ruby and diamond glints in the sand
palm fronds dance in tenacious winds
waves crest higher reaching skyward
carrying red starfish into the rough surf
seagulls hover like kites over the shore
peeking through the eye wall, sunshine
blue green waters reflect the dark sky
bubble like foam rises from the sands
floating through the air up into the dunes
swale grass swaying around white egrets.
Sand crabs scurry for the deeper water.
Fog horn sounds at the edge of the reef
seaweed heaves and falls with the swell
cormorants stand stoic on harbor rocks
as green teal fly by in a frenzied rush.
Turquoise tsunamis swallows the beach.