Hollow Way

Sunken Lane In Suffolk

Hollow way – an old place
for badgers to slide,
for the yaffle to laugh.
Nightshade fruit in the gloom,
beckons like the moist lips of elves.

Wondering, I know a clear chalk-stream,
the splashes and laughs
of Roman children floating boats –
before the drummers come
to call the Eagles home.

Hengist stamps ashore,
to farrow his pigs upon mosaics.
The bright water flees below,
leaves its bed dry to centuries
of ponies bearing wool.

The grey squirrel runs up a tree –
yet another invader.

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About Harry Nicholson

I'm an enameller who works with a kiln, fusing pictures in glass onto copper. I write a few poems and short stories. There is an eBook anthology of them, 'Green Linnet' on Amazon. Also a novel, 'Tom Fleck', set in the North of England of 1513 - the year of Flodden. A sequel to 'Tom Fleck' is 'The Black Caravel' published in 2016. My anthology of poems came out in 2015: 'Wandering About.' I've a blog of poems, stories and art at: https://1513fusion.wordpress.com/
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One Response to Hollow Way

  1. vivinfrance says:

    Gorgeous, Harry. We have hollow ways here, too.

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