Under A Northern Sky

Under A Northern Sky was first published in 2009. It is a collection of poetry and paintings which I had written and painted over a number of years and which I felt complimented each other. 

It now appears in a completely revised second edition and is the first book to appear in the imprint of Masham Gallery Press.

It is priced at £9.95 and is available from The Gallery, Masham

ISBN  978-1-909260-00-9

CLICK HERE to order Under A Northern Sky 

A few extracts from Under A Northern Sky :

Curlews

Wind of cloudscape and seaspray
Scours, roars, glides and soars between the evening hills.
Kissing the fan of falling water,
Rattling the rusted shells of leaves on limestone,
Hissing in a tide of trees
And lifting the magic bird.

The stone coloured camouflaged curlew -
Curving beak and curving song -
Swings like a dark lantern on the unseen slopes of sky
And pours its liquid flight
Down to the nest of night.

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Waterfalls

Its is only when I am afar and alone
My three loves,
That I see you clearly.
Glittering,
Poured like wine over silver,
You are my roses and my rain.

Hard on the ice-bound edge of the year
Or drowsy in folds of a summer meadow,
I sleep with your dreams running sweet through my song
And know you,
In truth,
As the only gold.

I am always in awe of your matchless light,
But ever I aim where my strength will not follow,
So I am Icarus and you are the sun
And I die for your joy and am glad in my sorrow.

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A November Kind of Day

This is the hour when the weariness comes
And the pen is falling from my fingers,
When cobbles shine with rain and afternoon light,
And the smoky smells of autumn linger,
And I think about you and I miss you still.
I wish you could hear my song but you never will.
Its a November kind of day.

This is the hour when a telephone rings
But no-one’s ever there to answer.
This is the time when all the fog fills the sky
And hides the heaven’s silver dancers.
And I turn your memory over in my hand.
The way I feel today I know you’d understand.
Its a November kind of day.

This is the time when night comes hungry and cold
Devouring dreams with deadly fingers.
This is the time just like the time you left my life.
I thank God the memory still lingers.
On days like this I feel so sad I cannot say.
I miss the years we lost because you passed away.
Its a November kind of day today.

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The Wishing Seat

Whenever I’m here I’m never alone,
There’s always you and me.
Whenever I’m here I feel at home
On the old tree’s bones
Where the sunshine’s warm
And the wind sighs and sings and moans
Like a ship on the southern seas.

Whenever I’m here its a lovely day
Under winter or summer skies
And in times to come when you’re far away
I’ll be leaning back on the bark of grey
And feeling inside the warm sun’s rays
And looking out of your eyes.

Whenever I’m here and the touch of gold
Is frosting the winter breeze
I will always find your hands to hold
For wherever we are we are touching souls
Forever
For in my wishes are folded
Your words by the wishing tree.

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