Grey Skies – Ian Moore

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 


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,


Ian Moore, London

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