72 Miles From The Sea by Paul Curtis (e novels to read txt) 📖

calm on a balmy eve
Each ripple expands out
And with each inch it grows
It stretches and diminishes
Until it is no more
Until another bird settles
On another reeds stem


FALCON IN THE GARDEN

In the late summer sky
The falcon in majestic flight
Spied its unfortunate prey
Then swooped down from great height

With lightning speed
It took a pigeon on the wing
Then with much less grace and style
It performed a clumsy landing

In a quiet village garden
On the sunny patch of grass
The falcon went about its work
And performed the coup de gras

From the house a curious cat
Peered out with envious eyes
Through a window as the falcon
Devoured its pigeon prize

The cat crept through the cat flap
In its most stealthy way
The falcon though was off
But left behind its pigeon prey

The cat inspected the pigeon
Sniffed it and poked it with her paw
Found it a disappointment
And she strolled away once more

As she strolled back to the house
The falcon swooped to the ground
Snatched up his pigeon prize
Before the cat could turn around

The falcon had taken the bird
Leaving nothing in its place
Leaving only feathers on the lawn
And a scowl on the cats face


QUEEN OF HER DOMAIN

There she perches
Queen of her domain
Keen Eagle eyes scanning the scene
Head never still
Then in the water
A silvery glint
And she’s airborne
Gliding with silent grace
Almost aimlessly
Then with perfect timing
She strikes to take the rising fish
And with it safe in her talons
She sets off to deliver
The silver prize to her young

PADEMELON (SMALL WALLABY)

You’ll find the Pademelon
Beneath the rainforest trees
As they hop in search of food
In the cool of the evening breeze

TROGON

In the rain forests the Trogon dwells
Eating insects, fruit and seeds
A bird with the most lustrous plumage
Nesting in holes in the trees
Brilliant and dazzling with their long tails
A truly beautiful sight to see

NATURE

DAWN

The distant mountains
Pale in the mist
Reach up to the sky like children
Waiting to be kissed

As the sun comes slowly into view
It turns the vast sky blue
Birds awaken bright as the day
As if to chase the night away


WATER WAY

From the mountain high
On the summit icy
It begins to trickle
Toward its destiny
Trickle becoming stream
Very quickly
Its method brilliant
In its simplicity
It follows the path
Of least resistance
In its great race
To go the distance
Growing ever stronger
Under gravity
Deeper wider
And ever more rapidly
A great river now
Heading for its destiny
And it’s fulfilled
When reaching the sea

STORM FRONT

The gulls screech and scream
Swooping above the cliff top
On the waves below white horses ride
As the tide surge is broken to a stop

Fishing boats appear to dance
Driven by the weather to the south
They make slow progress in the swell
As they bob towards the harbour mouth

As the weather quickly closes in
The gulls desert the cliff top
Making their way inland to safety
Waiting patiently for the storm to stop


WILDERNESS

The fierce sun burned the land
Cracking stone, bleaching bone
Drying the rich earth to dust
To be blown on the four winds
Or washed away by unforgiving rains
So infrequent in their coming

Unable to penetrate the iron earth
Rain-washed off the barren land
Like it were a repellent oily hide
Leaving it sterile and infertile
To all but natures hardiest
Most determined to cling to life

In the fast expanding wilderness
Beneath rocks and stones life goes on
Insects toil industriously on
While un-germinated seeds bide their time
Until nature smiles once more
On this harsh and arid land


A PASSING CIVILIZATION

Fast food packaging
Hits the ground
As a car passes
Paper cups dance
In the artificial breeze
As a lorry passes
In the shrubbery
Tin cans and wrappers lie
As a pedestrian passes
Tickets, receipts, cartons
Bottles, tins and old refrigerators
Each successive piece surpasses
But nature will overcome
Our laziness and contempt
When our tenancy passes


LOOK AT THEM

They appear morning
Noon and night
They swell and grow
Rise and fall
And dissolve and shrink
They are sometimes thick
Sometimes thin
They are sometimes dense
Sometimes transparent
They move fast and slow
They cross treetops and fields
Lakes and seas
Homes and factories
Deserts and swamps
Tropical rainforests
And arctic tundra’s
They are beautiful and familiar
Strange and dramatic
They are myriad in form and shape
A face, a mountain, a fish
They are brown and gray
Steel blue and black
Yellow and gold
Lilac and pink
But mostly clouds are white


MY FAVOURITE TIME

It’s my favourite time
A special time
A magical time
A time for romancing lovers
For shared enjoyment
Or solitary reflection
A time to drink in the vistas
Along with the cocktails
Awe inspiring displays
Whether over the open sea
Or beyond high distant mountains
Over prairie or savannah
Or painting barren desert
Or colouring the icy tundra
Illuminating a city landscape
Whether it’s across the river
Or behind the gas works
It’s a magical time
A special time
It’s my favourite time
When the sun sets

PASSING BY

Way up high
In the sky
Clouds pass by
I wonder why
On a bright day
Some might say
I see the milky way
Indeed they may
Way up then
Near to heaven
I shall know when
Clouds pass again


SYMPHONIC NATURE

Nature fills the world with sound
An infinite orchestra free to air
The wind can caress the trees
Rustling the leaves gently
Or make them beat like a tambourine
It can whistle through canyons
And talk in the high grass
Then add the percussion of distant thunder
Water tumbling down stream
Waves crashing on a rocky shore
And rain falling on a leafy canopy
Then a chorus made up from every creature
The bird world, myriad in variety
From humming bird to nightingale
To rooks and crows
And then the insects from
Rhythmic crickets to buzzing bees
And animal kind contribute
Howling hounds, roaring big cats
Trumpeting elephants and squeaking mice
And when the elements really get going
They can bring the house down

I AM THE SMOKE

I am the smoke
That will simply float away
Drift away powerless to stop
There is a kind of beauty about me
Also there is danger in me.
I am mercurial
I am thick like pea soup fog
Or thin and translucent like a veil
I have no purpose
I am only an after thought
I am the villain
A bi product of something useful
I am the smoke


PERFECT PARADISE

The crystal waters
Wash gently onto
Virgin white sand
Untrod by man
Unspoiled by technology
And no vapour trails
Mark the azure sky

The trees untended
Lay where they fell
The coconuts un-harvested
But for the wind
Lay untouched also

They beach stretched
As far as the eye could see
Far into the distance
Un-marked and un-scarred
No buildings
No phone masts
No pylons
No wind farms
Or streetlights
The only sounds to be heard
Were the waves breaking,
The gentle breeze in the palms
And assorted birdcalls
No gunfire
No car alarms
No train whistles
No sonic booms
Or traffic
Just a perfect silence

No flotsam of plastics and tins
Littered the beach
Just endless white sand’s
And perfect blue skies
The rustles of palm fronds
And warm scented breezes
So where is this paradise?
It’s in the long distant past

WIND

Wind is a wonderful thing
Invisibly it makes the leaves dance
And trees gyrate as if shaken
By an invisible hand
Water is pushed before it
Rain and snow are driven by it
It ripples through cornfields
Whispers in the grass
It whistles through canyons
Whines like a tortured spirit
Or scream like a banshee
It is a fickle force
It can be silent like a mouse
Or roar like a lion
Its gentleness can caress your cheek
Its awesome power
Can toss you like a rag doll
Or snap you like a twig
Its power is to be respected
It’s uncompromising and indiscriminate
A force to be reckoned with
Whether from the frozen north
Or a bitter easterly
A stormy westerly
Or a vengeful tempest from the south

THE GOLDEN ORB
The golden orb
Burning orange
Set slowly
Beyond the distant hills
As it slid slowly down
It painted the hills
In rainbow hues
Back lighting the tree line
Highlighting them boldly black
Showing them in stark relief
Against the crimson sky
As it was finally swallowed
By the western horizon
The sky was tinged with pink
Before darkness was everywhere

I WANT TO LIVE

I want to live
Where you can see stars
In the night sky
And it actually gets dark at night

I want to live
Where the river banks
Are grass and reed
And the dominant colour is green

I want to live
Where the animals
Out number cars
And I know all my neighbours by name

I want to live
An idyllic country life
In a village or on a farm
In a chocolate box paradise


THE RUGGED ISLE

The channel glistened
With silver strands
Beneath the early summer sun
Its waves broke gently white
Below the green topped cliffs of chalk
The sky of azure blue
Was clear and appeared limitless
But on the distant horizon
Storm clouds gathered
Though these clouds bore no rain
And would not bring a summer squall
Storm and tempest were imminent
The sky became filled with sinister formations
Like foreboding flocks
Of migrating duck or geese
But these were not of natures sending
This malevolent swarm
Scarring the clear June sky
These were of mans conception
Heading for England’s shores
To cross its wondrous tapestry
Spread casually across the land
Like a vast quilted patchwork
And when upon this landscape
Easy on the eye
Did the bombs of evil fall
Shattering the peace
Of our rugged isle
Splitting the earth
And breaking bodies
Its spirit did not break
Its people stood firm
Defiant in Satan's face
Withstanding hells fire
And brimstone smoke
And spat in Hitler’s eye


NATURAL MUSIC

Bird song abounds like a symphony
Scripted by natures unseen composer
Conducted by the baton of an invisible maestro
The shrill woodwinds
Of Blackbirds, Finches, Thrush and the Tit family
While the Cuckoo sets the time
And a Woodpecker beats a rhythm
The breeze move the leafy canopy
Like vibrant cascading strings
Timbers creek and strain adding percussion
Rutting Stags and distant plaintive cries
A Fox cry and a Peacock’s call
Water fowl and cooing Doves
Underscored by the beating wings of birds in flight
Insects join the improvised symphony
Droning Bees and Dragonfly
A symbol crash as a Duck enter the water
A waterfall adds the rolling kettle drum
Distant thunder booms like a bass drum
And Xylophonic drops of rain hit the lake
While a Swan gracefully dances
Across the water in perfect harmony
God in heaven the impresario
Of mother natures philharmonic company

SQUALL

The grey skies are stormy and wild,
Strong winds gust and batter the land,
Rain carried by the squall
Peppers the windows like gravel
And stings the faces of the unfortunate traveller
God protect those