Questing for the solar lodge, the white men are mad, extraordinary

Our saviour you have too much too loose of course now

It is the time of the starving freak out moon

Stammered all his life she cried, overbearing grossness like a thistle patch

Water collected in a butt over a lime fired winter

Don’t leave us behind.

Brambles, thorns and the briar patch. Yellowhammer, pied wagtail and goldfinch surrendered to the shadow of the lunar, eclipsed by necessity of course.

Of gorse and bulrush and horse fly, flayed, withering, paint peeling, that feeling of closeness, lights around the bay

A dray horse a dragonfly and a damsel in distress

Please turn out the lights when you leave.

Burn stronger now, honeysuckle, red rose and smell of camphor

Summer storm, electrically charged moisture, micro density, low pressure, sea swells.

Twines, galleons, the forgotten

Branch line, load stone, provincial treasure hunt, moss covered caravan

Toadstool tenements, broken artefacts rusting for decades not moving

These are your friends; this is where your power lies.