TREES 30 January 2026

 

WILLOW TREES

I yearn for the same air you breath

O darling willow tree

in this dusty town i grieve

that i can never see

your graceful arms above the lakes

nor your golden yellow leaves

thIS lonely town has only dusty trees.

here the leafless bye ways

a thousand windows show

each reflect the light of days

but nowhere trees  can grow.

forced lines like weary soldiers

stand by the ancient walls

picket green and dusty

golden willows call.

what is it willow tree

that makes me love you so?

is it the rhthmn of your leaves

as I pass and go?

or is it that you were created

by One so dear to me

the One who made you live your life

whose inner life I see

 I crave your beauty

but more than that I know

your heavenly grace calls to me

for heaven is where i go

each and every morning

through the dusty city street

to meet my One true love

in sacred bread I meet.

Amen L. Ivison 2026 copyright.

PINK HYACYNTH 2 21 January 2025

 

I laid you beneath the Lady's feet

to perfume this chilly vault

where the white Virgin stands.

 sightless she looks at all who 

 lay their prayers with trembling hands.

The vault is locked and dark tonight

but I am sure She stands alone

as the pink hyacynth prays 

when all human prayers are done.

its perfume shrouds the Lady white

embalms the air while I sleep

and slowly passes this long night.

L. Ivison copyright 2026

HYACYNTH IN HONOUR OF OUR LADY OF LOURDES 20 January 2026

 

I put the hyacynth by your side

Sweet Lady of the Light

it was pink 

tight petals folded 

waking slowly in the night

Will the lady of the Light

statue in marble white

see you with her unseeing eyes

beneath the everlasting skies.

L. Ivison copyright 2026

t

DIEPPE HARBOUR 10.30 a.m.

 DIEPPE HARBOUR

Neither blue nor grey nor white

neither cloud nor sunshine nor shade

There the harbour

green grey

today.

There the tiny trees

by the ancient fort

too far to walk

but miniatured in my eyes

under yellow rose skies/

all is dark over there

yonder by the ancient fort

except that special light

a misplaced dawn light.

The bus does not come

but the grey cloud does

blotting out the blue but

leaving the early morning light

over by the ancient fort

for my delight/

L. Ivison 2026 copyright

HOW MANY? 12 January 2026

 HOW MANY

How many more times will I hear the rain fall

how many rainy days?

how many twigs will snap beneath my feet

how many beats will my heart beat?

how many times have I wished the end

how many hours wasted in thankless hours

how many prayers did I not say

that this is all, every minute Yours?

L. Ivison 2026 copyright

STORM 9 September 2026

You tree tops blown by

this winter storm

no leaves protect your bony limbs

twisted and cracked.

last night the hurricane spared you

yes, you up there, I watch

mighty nature tremble under

His mighty hand.

You were spared this night

flourishing in Spring

budding in May

ready for the summer sky

when perhaps I will die.

Twenty years from now you

will sweep the stars

and I will lay 

silent.

your leaves will flourish

the birds will sing and

fly away,

but even so you too

will die one day.

L. Ivison 2026 copyright

 

SUNNY SNOW 6 January 2025

 

it snowed last night.

the bus zigzags over ice

and takes me to the top of the hill

across the fields of winter wheat until

we see the sea. 

clouds heavy 

tipped with rose 

low sun hangs 

silver making the bay  white.

it is a heavenly sight.

L. Ivison 2026 copyright

my shadow makes me a giant

criss crossed by metal bars

like an imaginery prisoner in ice.

crunching under the avenue of trees

whose copper leaves lie half buried

in their new blanket.

the bus waits to take me down the

hill, sliding, away from my

memories /

L. Ivison 2025 copyright

NO SNOW 7 January 2026

 

No snow, no slow snow

time moves again fast not slow

no skidmarks, no footprints, no sludge

pink clouds have gone

Christmas is done

trees naked and brown again

and now we wait for the rain.

L. Ivison 2026 copyright

snow 5 January 2025

 SNOW

Silent snow, slow snow

slushing, shimmering snow

branches etched in fine snow

falling now, again from

ink grey skies touched with rose

driving snow does not penetrate

the avenue of trees, 

but it falls from heavy branches

high high above my head.

footprints bring memories

from 60 years ago 

the first snow falls, crunching

shouting, echoing in the valley

where we sledged full speed

down the hillside

and here today so many years have passed

my life is short now the dye is caste

L.Ivison 2025 copyright

EXPECTING SNOW 2 January 2025

 

Where was the blue sky today

and where the radiant sun?

wind biting, up to the mount we ride

my joy is difficult to hide.

no strident shadows from the copper trees

no magpies chattering in the mist

nothing for everyman to please

but by You my heart was sweetly  kissed.

Slow by red earth fields we ride

down to the bay of Puy

where 10,000 soldiers died

 no earthly mother by their side

Were you there sorrowful Mother dear

did they hear your whispers in their fear

that comforted them at their last breath

and left them in a peaceful death?

L. Ivison 2025 copyright.

N.B.  The bay of Puy is near Dieppe where 10 000 young men died on one day in WW2