Like a ghostly apparition
I am Ian Moore from London and I am over fifty years old. I have always enjoyed reading narrative writing and poetry but only recently have I turned my hand to writing poems. I like poems that have a rich language, a strong imagery and conceal a deeper meaning using symbolism.
Grey Skies
by Ian Moore
A grey sky mopes
despondently,
Drifting across the hills.
Scourged by years of rainfall,
Trickling down the face of the hillside,
The upland rocks
Have been dragged to an inevitable end.
They lay prostrate
In a vale
That has been withered
by time.
Boulders battered by coastal winds
Tumble after –
Into the cervices below.
Everything is hidden
In a veil of mist –
Concealed behind a lace curtain of rain
Or secretive
Like a ghostly apparition
Sweeping across the ridge.
Sprigs of heather
Scattered amongst turfs of grass
Emerge cautiously.
A lone seagull swooping
across the murky sky,
Hitching a ride on a gust of wind,
Scours the land – a fruitless search.
Beneath the hilltop,
In the valley below,
ancient border-lines
Vanish into a grey horizon…
–
Yet, in the distance,
Adorning the hillside
In its radiant splendour,
a slither of sunlight
Slices through the darkness,
Lifting the grey clouds,
Momentarily.
Ian Moore, London
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