Category Archives: Poetry

Poem 26 Hope for the Forests of Hope.

Hope for the Future, Forests of Hope.
BirdLife International joins 20 leading conservation groups – the ‘WC20’ ahead of this weekend’s G20 Leaders’ Summit to warn that COVID-19 highlights need for urgent action – and urge that investing in nature costs a fraction of pandemic response, while driving green jobs and tackling climate change.

Bird Life International supports ‘Forests for Hope which you can read about on their website and support through my sponsorship challenge. I hope by the time I post this that the G20 will actively support the work needed to restore our devastated natural world as we are all suffering from this destruction of ecosystems.

I have based my 26th and final poem on one I wrote for an exhibition of my friend Ruth Koenigsberger’s paintings last year. Another friend translated it into Spanish. Many people seemed to identify with that special feeling when we get a good glimpse of a wild animal. Her painting of the young owl was the poster for the exhibition. Next year we hope to have another exhibition as her bird paintings have taken full flight into a glory of imagination and colour.

Poem 26 is 26 words from this poem in English, folllowing with 26 lines for many of the creatures I have missed out. ( The amount of lines is a challenge with the new block editor, how can it be so clumsy?)

Wild Witness

I see you on my terrace;

You see me see you.

Your eyes hold onto mine.

You move through the trees of my life,

Leaves fall.

Our Navasola Forest of Hope


Twice now a female wild boar has looked me in the eye.

Both shortsighted but her sense of smell much better than mine.

She moves on,with her tribe following, to a safer distance.


The wild deer like the badger, the fox and the mongoose, leave their scatological deposits.

A reminder that this is their home here.

The genet too used our old roof as a skyscraper latrine.

While bats and owls went bump in the night to stoke our dreams with fur and feathers.


Birds hide away from us but woodpecker feathers lay lifeless on the ground.

Golden Orioles sing in the tall alders and willows above

Ruth’s orchard where pen, paint and patterns create smiles.

A buzzard or a booted eagle hovers.

Bullfinches and hoopoes pass by for weekend retreats.


Butterflies varied in their passions delight us with a feast of fritillaries, festoons and swooning swallowtails.


Insect life seems happy buzzing, clicking, whirring. There are no nasty chemicals nearby. .

Beetles abound from rotting tree trunks but we look out for one that likes our linseed protected timber roof.

Paper wasp nests hide in the eaves, hornets hang around near the ivy on an old oak. Wasp like waists to die for.

Dragonflies often hover near the porch ready to catch the large flying ants.


Our favourite porch pets are the regular reptile visits of

Psammodromus, the white gecko and the lizard of jewels.

Sometimes we find fire salamanders and the ladderback snake under old tiles and in wood piles.

We see so much life from the porch, the window and on quiet walks.

All imprints on our being.

But who are we on theirs?

As they look and stare, even glare at the imposition of our being on their path,

I hope they will dare to pass by our way,

Forever.

My Challenge
I am not by nature a fundraiser but I felt compelled as the lockdown began and many fund raising events couldn’t take place to make mine a poetry marathon. There was the 2.6 challenge for charities affected by the London Marathon not taking place. So I decided for my sins to write 26 poems, some with 26 words and some with 26 lines. Unfortunately the 2.6 fund raising page was time limited and the page no longer works. It has taken me 8 months to get to my finishing line.
Thank you to all those who have sponsored me for the RSPB 2.6 challenge page and for others who have begun to sponsor BirdLife International.
I strongly believe that if we could begin to restore nature and change our relationship from exploitation of the natural world to a sustainable and equitable future there will be hope that we can continue to live in a nature rich world that is much healthier and happier.
This weekend BirdLife International which begun in 1922 for conservation of birds across boundaries has coordinated with other nature organisations to present the urgent need to stop the destruction and speed up restoration of our natural world at the G20.

BirdLife International helped form Wildlife Conservation 20, or WC20, uniting 20 of the most prominent conservation NGOs at the forefront of protecting wildlife and ecosystems.
Patricia Zurita, BirdLife International’s CEO, said: “COVID-19 is a wake up call to everyone on this planet. Now is the moment when we must value and invest in conservation by developing sustainable nature-based economic stimulus packages. BirdLife believes access to a healthy planet should be a universal human right and this urgent call complements our 1planet1right.org campaign to make this so.
Otherwise, the natural world, on which we all rely, will not be able to protect us and safeguard our current and long-term well-being. Investing the recovery funds in nature will protect not only our economies but also our health.”
On this 21 and 22 November in Riyadh, as the G20 meet, they must step up to the plate to address this crisis.”

If you wish to help me finish my challenge the link for my fundraising page is below.

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/georgina-wright7

Poem 25. Writing Words For Weasels.

Head of Comadrito by Ruth Koenisberger

Winter is here and I am now on Poem 25 and in another lockdown, albeit now in the U.K. There have been too many distractions, some wonderful like cuddles with a new baby and dinosaur games with a three year old. Others have been nail biting as coronavirus cases rise here and the  American Election creates a cliff hanger. When will it all be over? We need courage and patience to know ‘it’ will all take its own time.

This poem is about weasels because a weasel is one of my main characters in The Call of the Wild Valley. But the poem touches on how we use animals to describe human characteristics and often to the detriment of the animal. Why do wolves have to be bad when their social relationships are supportive and for the good of the whole pack. Why do we have the phrase ‘weasel words’? Usage appears to go back to Shakespeare where weasels were thought to suck out the egg yolk from a shell.

‘I can suck melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs’ As You Like It 1600.

However it may be thanks to Theodore Roosevelt in 1916 who used the words for the ability of humans to obscure meaning or fail to take responsibility with clarity and honesty in communicating. ‘one of our defects as a nation is a tendency to use weasel words; when one weasel word is used after another there is nothing left’. ( With thanks to Wikipedia and I trust verified)

I hope clarity can return to communication and weasels can be appreciated for their role in nature and ability to tackle rats.

Writing Words for Weasels

Weasels do not have those words

That deceive with tricks and lies

If weasels really did speak out

Would their words be heard

Above the human need to shout

About nowt, while a bird flies

Through a sky of sighs.

In creating my novel about the lives of different species in the animal and plant kingdoms of Navaselva, a weasel became one of the main characters. In many ways after I created the first chapter and a journey narrative I felt the novel began to write itself. The characters, the places, and the challenges faced seemed to fall into place. However, one aspect of my way of writing was to avoid speech, I did not want talking animals that would be too like humans. But I needed characters with personality and feelings.

Comadreya is the word for weasel in Spanish. I named the weasel this but then changed it to Comadrito when Ruth was drawing him. She wanted a more engaging name. At first I wrote with some distance from the character and in 3rd person omniscient ( this now seems to be an old fashioned style, if an all knowing narrative perspective). I now realise the need to engage the reader by being more in the point of view of one character.

The beginning idea came from a story told by our yoga teacher Juanjo. I struggled to understand the Spanish but this was about someone seeing a bird of prey lift up a weasel in its talons but then drop the weasel fairly soon after, possibly as the weasel bit the bird’s feet.

Weasels are known for their sharp teeth and ability to kill all kinds of prey. Much later after creating my bird/ weasel encounter  I  saw the iconic photo of a weasel on the back of a woodpecker. It seems both survived the encounter but the weasel was trying to kill the bird.

The smallest weasels, Mustela nivalis are very light, about 50 grams but are known for their need to eat a good percentage of their body weight every day. Hence their ability to tackle a wide variety of prey from small rodents to rabbits and large birds.They could be seen as opportunists, sharp, able to act quickly and fearless.

The first chapter of my novel begins with a weasel waiting on a rock to go on a journey of discovery. One of my two encounters with tiny weasels at Navasola was looking out of the front door and seeing a weasel on the rock by the olive tree. It seemed to look back at me but in its mouth was a mouse. I had to ponder the possibility that a mouse that I had recently released from being trapped in a large box in the house, had been delivered, tired and intimidated by its encounter with me, into the sharp teeth of the weasel.

These are some of the reasons I chose a weasel, a small enough animal to travel on the back of a large bird, an animal that can hide easily, but able to slip in an out of many different places in a quest for knowledge about a rapidly changing planet. Knowledge that can be shared to help all species adapt and survive. One of the main themes of the novel is facing challenges through cooperation and coexistence.

I have one more poem to go and it is ready as it is one I wrote for my artist friend Ruth Konigsberger’s exhibition a year ago. It has also been translated into Spanish and I hope to work on some of these poems and translate some into Spanish as they are very much about the flora and fauna of the Sierra Aracena.

I will also do a final fundraising on that post because the one I started at the beginning was time limited and closely connected to the London Marathon and losses that charities are facing in this pandemic.

Poetry Challenge. PoeM 24 : The Black Kite

Milvana by Ruth Konigsberger

As many of you will know I am trying to finish this 26 poetry challenge I started during our Spanish lockdown experience. We are currently entering back into that phase here in the North of the UK and I still have three poems to go. However, we have managed to spend time with Jessica Rose, our new arrival and focus of my last post. All is going well.

This poem is forDverse poets open link night, always a source of inspiration and able to kick start me. http://www.dversepoets.com

This poem is about the very successful and world wide species of black kites. The drawing is by Ruth Konisgsberger and is part of the portrait of the character of the black kite in my novel. I will do a post on this as soon as I finish these poems! Black kites do visit the Sierra on their migration, some breed here. However, nowadays the red kites seem more common.

The Migrating Kites ( Milvus migrans or Milano negro in Spanish)

Our Milvana migrates from here,

Here to somewhere over there,

Over the deserts to Afri Ka.

All kinds of kites have flown

All around the world wide web,

Connected by genes from ancient

Almost Jurassic dinosaur times.

Archaeopteryx, the mother bird

First flew the world.

Black kites, by many other names

Milano, Milhafre

Live long lives of 20 years or so

With brains that may adapt

To many different climes.

Some flew over wide waters                                                                                                     

To islands in the vast Atlantic

To the Azores.

Some flew to Gondawa

And learnt how

To use burning branches

To flush out scared prey.

Before wild fires spread so fast

To destroy whole forests,

In changing times

With wildlife crimes.

Others in the East

Fly around the temples

Of the many headed Gods

Brahmin souls in flight

Pariahs picking the bones

Of the dead.

Here in the Sierra

Not many black kites

Now fly.

Does anyone care

Why?

Wishing everyone a safe and purposeful time in such a difficult era.

For anyone wishing to sponsor the poems I will put up some new links for the charity Birdlife International who coordinate the conservation of birds across our human borders.

Poem 22 and 23. The Stork brings our Rose

My plan was to finish my poetry challenge by October 4th when the cancelled London marathon is run in a limited way. But plans can often go astray particularly when babies decide it is their time to be born. We welcome to our family the tiny Jessica Rose. And for my next two poems I will honour her with a stork and rose poem!  That will leave me three more to go, which are almost ready. I apologise too for the link to my fundraising page as without me knowing it had a time limit. Thank you to all those who have contributed or tried. I will put a final link when I have finished  the 26 poems to Birdlife International and explain the work they do.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

A  Haiku for Jessica Rose

Stork’s beak with small sprog

Or sprig of eglantine rose.

Brings Spring to Autumn

There are wild roses at Navaselva and they delicately entwine themselves up some of the young trees. Often they grow on the edge of a tree line looking for light. The eglantine rose for me of Shakespearean fame, Rosa rubiginosa, or the dog rose, Rosa canina find places to flourish on our finca and have effective thorny defences. Rosa canina was known for possibly curing dog bites. There may be other types too and I will now need to investigate next Spring. It seems there are many roses by many different names and types of leaves to distinguish their species.  Perhaps the wild rose can be symbolic of the need for women to be both tough and tender as highlighted by Maya Angelou. Certainly pregnancy and birth can be tough times and then the tenderness of love for a new human and the need to protect.

As for storks I have to be honest I have not seen them near our woodland. But there are some that nest in the local villages. And further along the road to Portugal there are many storks that nest on the pylons and the trees by the river. When we visit the Doñana wetlands in January there are 100s of storks nesting in trees and plentiful supplies of food in the marshy borders and rice fields along the Guadalquivir river.

It seems that the legends about stork have ancient history from Egyptian and Greek times, although there seems to be some confusion over whether the spiritual birds of birth and rebirth, carrying souls were cranes, herons or storks. Another interesting stork legend was the association with oregano, a well-known healing herb with antibiotic qualities that storks were seen with in their beaks. Oregano grows abundantly at Navaselva and I swear by its healing properties.  I use it for my gums and for any sign of a sore throat. However, the stork in the haiku has a sprig of a wild rose in its large beak!

The main stork legend grew in Northern Europe when storks arrived in Spring and were seen as signs of hope and family fidelity. Hans Christian Andersen’s story ‘The Storks’ consolidated the tradition we love to keep of the stork bringing the baby.

I have adapted a poem I wrote some years ago about storks based on Yeats ‘The Wild Swans of Coole’ into my 26 word format.

This drawing of the stork comes from an art class with my friend the artist Ruth Konigsberger whose paintings and drawings often accompany these poems. The classes began before lockdown and have started up again and bring us all a joy as she is not just a wonderful artist but a very skilled teacher. Our focus was parallel perspective and dark and shade.

Poem 22 Storks in 26 words

Among what places the storks will build

Their hopes, on pylons or spires,

With God’s desires fulfilled

Where wonder never tires.

All prosper where they perch.

Stork in parallel perspective

Poem 20 And 21: Goodbye to Summer. Fly Well, Fly Safe.

It is the equinox, the official end of long summer days. It is thought that this rather than any change of temperature is the way the migrating birds know they must leave for Africa’s warmth and food. The swifts usually go in August but house martins often have a second brood and will leave as late as September. The bee-eaters gather together too around this time. At Navasola there have been storms so perhaps some are still waiting to go. Here are two poems to two of Navasola’s summer visitors. One who has become a character in my novel and this drawing of him by my artist friend Ruth. His name is Abe Apio and he flies north in a quest to find a cooler place for a Navaselva buff-tailed bumblebee.

By Ruth Konigsberger

Abe Apio the bee-eater of my dreams.

Abe Apio you never leave me

Your brightness stirs my words

As your story moves me to write

Of your struggle to save

Not just bees.

Red rump swallow recovering from being stunned and ready to fly off.

You Can Not Keep a Swallow in a Zoo

This child delights in her own toy zoo,

A gorilla and tiger stalking through

A mat of savannah tufted strands.

A plastic fence surrounds a zebra.

A lion lies down with a flamingo.

The sun beats through a round bay window

Of a neat corner house with stained glass

Swallows at the front door and on the wall.

All this made the warmth of summer kind

In a chilly northern seaside town.

And this child did not know

What she knows now.

You can not keep a swallow in a zoo.

Now she counts the swallows as so few fly by.

The ones with red rump feathers preened

Prefer these southern lands with barns,

And ruins of long ago times,

Where with martins and swifts.

Built nests under old tiled roofs.

With holes and  a rural disregard

For cleanliness that bleaches bare all life.

We thought some swallows might adorn our porch

But one hit a window and took a time

To fly again high enough to see

The windows of heaven

Where the ark is waiting.

Each poem conforms to my challenge to write 26 poems for the 26 miles of the London marathon which was not run this year and many charities have lost vital funds. A poem will either have 26 words and be haiku inspired or 26 lines. Each poem will be about different species found around Navasola.

My charity is the Royal Society for Protection of Birds and  their links with Birdlife International. Please help them help the birds that know no borders. Much work has gone on to protect habitats and raise awareness of the importance of birds to the balance of nature. The decline in bird numbers and in particular swallows is worrying.

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/georginas-26-challenge-i-am-going-to-write-26-poems-about-the-wild-flora-and-fauna-here-on-our-woodland-finca-in-spain-i-will-post-these-on-my-blog

Poem 16: The Madroño Tree and the Two Tail Pasha; 26 Poem Challenge.

Greetings to all and to Dverse Poets on their 8th anniversary. Am linking this to open link night with Mish; https://dversepoets.com/   And really pleased to find Earthweal and their challenges with a nature focus; https://earthweal.com/

Life coming out of lockdown in Spain has been interesting and busy in many ways as we can now decide to go out more and visit friends and family.  Some normality but also it is very strange and strained too. We hope all is going well for so many of you in many different places.

There has also been more work to do on the finca as we finally been able to have help from others. There have been some blessings in our retreat from society but  sadness too as we are personally  touched by loss and at another loss as we watch and read too much incompetent managing of a health crisis.

.This poem on my 26 poem challenge is structured around my form of 26 lines, 12 for the tree and 12 for the butterfly and two finishing lines to comment on both. It is based on our experience of having to cut back some trees from the house and knowledge of butterfly habitats and the plants and trees they need.

The Madroño Tree and the Two Tail Pasha

Arbutus Unedo, Strawberry tree, Madroño

Today is trim time for trees

But not scissor light snips

More motor power and deep cuts

Ear muffs on for heavy chain whirs

If you could only keep your fine fans

Of branches away from our earth tiled roof

I would not feel the hurt of habitat loss

The screams of the leaves as they dash

Against the cool cement white rendered walls

The birds will not be pleased

Nor the butterfly that some call

The foxy emperor or Pasha.

 

 

Two Tail Pasha, Charaxes jasius, El Baja or Cuatro Colas. ( 4 tails!)

Here you must lay your eggs

To hatch into the worm with two horns.

 

 

 

How do you know this tree is best?

You do not need a nest

To carefully care as each of yours

Must hatch alone. Make its own munch

Through tough leaves.

Tough lives taken at the point of a beak

Or hang cocooned for days

Till horns transform, two tails of wings emerge.

So bright, so fair, move me to gasp

At change so rare.

 

From dark places, burst leaves, break wings.

Reach out for life, lived briefly, in the light.

 

Two tailed pasha

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As for the ongoing climate crisis my poetry challenge is to help conservation charities restore nature and prevent biodiversity loss. We must have more trees and wild places. It will help us too.

I know there are a lot of struggling charities at the moment but if you can support my efforts I and theRSPB/BirdLife International would be grateful. I am halfway through now and every little helps me write more!

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/georginas-26-challenge-i-am-going-to-write-26-poems-about-the-wild-flora-and-fauna-here-on-our-woodland-finca-in-spain-i-will-post-these-on-my-blog

 

Poem 15. The Pond and a Shining Moment. 26 poem challenge.

This is a poem about our pond which took a long time to create but now gives a lot of joy and a habitat for many and drinking water for the birds and bees. It is also inspired by Lilian’s haibun prompt for Dverse poets and for open link night. Hope all Dverse poets have a good summer break and a Happy Anniversary for July 13 th. Thanks for all the inspiration.

The haibun form consists of 3 short authentic paragraphs, not fiction and completed with a haiku. Lilian gives some interesting advice on using a kiku , a nature/ time/ season key word, followed by an insight. https://dversepoets.com/2020/06/22/traditional-writing-on-a-shining-topic/

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Pond and a Shining Moment

The thin walls of the old house crumbled as the digger gently pushed. Stronger wider ones needed to be built to hold up a new roof. The man with the digger was only hired for two days but he was willing to dig out a hole for a pond for an extra 80 euros. We jumped at the offer. We wanted a wildlife pond. There was no running stream here, all the water was underground, sinking fast through sandy soil in the torrential rains after months of Mediterranean drought. The pond was excavated and then I decided to dig, deeper and wider and bring wheelbarrows full of good deep soil to my new vegetable plot up the hill. An open air muscle building gym.

The pond was downhill but became an uphill struggle. For two years it filled with rain water and the second year was so full and overflowing in May but by September was drained and the lining destroyed. Wild boar had one too many mud baths with tusk marks slashed through plastic. A new plan was devised of a boarproof fence, similar to the one around my vegetable garden. There was also so much wild plum growing that without removal this area would become a dense thicket. We worked to clear and have been rewarded with a meadow of wild flowers and the beginnings of more life in the pond with its now very expensive aquatic liner. We hoped for the croak of frogs.

His joy this lockdown spring has been to walk down from the house to the pond. His walk now is slower, unsteady. A virus, some years back, perhaps produced this change. Or so the experts say, but they do not really know. Once able to walk far and work on our new roof, now, he struggles to walk any distance. But the pond beckons, and with binoculars and a fence to lean on, he looks intently around. First he spotted one frog and then another. They seemed to be keeping their distance. At last shining, shimmering in the light, perfectly camouflaged with their dark green back stripe, they have their moment, and we have ours.

Light falls on Lily
Bees buzz: slippery limbs
Entwine hold hope tight

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I will include this in my 26 poetry poem as a habitat for a variety of species including the Iberian frog, plenty of pond skaters, beetles, a lily and other water plants, reeds, dragonflies and lots of bees. The pond has attracted the birds for water and baths, including a flycatcher or papamoscas in Spanish. Around the pond there is now a real variety of many wild flowers.

Thanks again to Dverse poets who reignited my love of writing and playing with poetry.

I am half way through my challenge and half way to my charity target. Please follow the Just giving link if you would like to sponsor me on behalf of a wildlife, nature charity. The RSPB and Birdlife International.

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/georginas-26-challenge-i-am-going-to-write-26-poems-about-the-wild-flora-and-fauna-here-on-our-woodland-finca-in-spain-i-will-post-these-on-my-blogs

26 Poem Challenge. Wings in the Woods. Poems 10 to 14

There are brown birds, blackbirds, multicoloured birds, white birds. Sometimes it is the brown birds that are easily overlooked, not colourful enough. But when you look closely, the browns are so varied and so beautifully marked, full of different tones and hues, perfectly adapted to their life in the woods.

This post is in memory of George Floyd who can no longer be with us to hear the winged creatures of our wounded world. May he be at rest and his family find solace in God, friendships, the beauty of nature and justice.

And there is a link to an article that I found very moving published in Sierra Club,an old established American conservation organisation. We have to understand and act against the kinds of thinking that allows our natural world to be destroyed and for many brown and black lives to not matter throughout the world.
https://www.sierraclub.org/sierra/racism-killing-planet

To the beauty of the brown bird whose name we do not know. A japanese style painting by Ruth Koenigsberger.

 

These are poems about some of our local birds seen from our porch. All woodland birds but very wild, cautious, shy perhaps and not easy to photo. The serin stayed just long enough balanced on a thin stem of wild cress that was left on our ‘lawn’ for pollinators to enjoy. And they did gather. We wish we saw more but we hear them and then they hide if we start to look for them. Wild birds do not seem to like eyes staring at them.

 

 

On Not seeing the birds for the trees
Somewhere in the woods
Behind a branch, beyond our gaze.
Birds are heard
If you dare to fix your eyes
Let the leaves dazzle your days.

 

10. Blue Tit or Herrerillo in Spanish, Parus caeruleus in latin

What’s in a name?
A titter or two?
But not in Spain
Where more rare
the tiny herrerillo
Is a sight to see.
To paint perhaps.

Blue tit by Ruth Koenigsberger

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

11. Redstart, Colirojo real in Spanish, Phoenicurus phoenicurus in latin
N
ot seen for so long
You fly into our life for water.

Fresh feathers feel cleansed.

Dash of red dips and dives.

Stay a moment more.

 

12. Goldfinch,  Jilguero in Spanish, Carduelis carduelis in latin
Gilded gloss on olive trunk
I see you for the first time.
Once you lived in pines
B graves of the long dead
In a far off place.

 

13. Firecrest, Reyezuelo in Spanish, Regulus ignicapilus in latin
Slow flight up each branch
Of the young cork you dart
Looking for something
That you will find
And I will not.

 

14. Serin, Verdecillo in Spanish Serinus serinus in latin
Hello, who are you?
Upon the fine stem
How do you pose,
unswaying, long enough?
Camera shaken, book taken
To discover the name
You already knew.

Serin on cress

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you would like to sponsor me on this 26 poem challenge the link is below and on the previous poems too. These poems are all written in my 26 word format. This time more freestyle than haiku and other Japanese forms with certain syllables to each line.

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/georginas-26-challenge-i-am-going-to-write-26-poems-about-the-wild-flora-and-fauna-here-on-our-woodland-finca-in-spain-i-will-post-these-on-my-blog

26 Poems. Poem 9. Vultures thrive in Andalucian Skies

 

 

 

 

 

Vultures

My first encounter with this most alarming bird

Was from a rickshaw, bald heads gathering around a corpse

A photo taken, a memory forgotten, no remorse

Until those eyes met mine and I finally heard.

Perfectly poised to penetrate death

A holy land where human harm leaves only dog

To scavenge the remains of a very manmade mess

The vultures gone to save the sacred cows distress

Slow painful death by inner unknown toxic smog.

Perfectly poisoned by human kind

And then a vulture of a different kind arose

Above the canyons of an ancient world made new

Condors with wingspans lifting in the thermal flows

Photos to remind us that now they too are few.

Perfect flight, sight, smell to search out death

Within a classroom Africa’s vultures I undermine.

Love of a feathered mate counts the human cost

To pass exams, context, effect, unthread that line

Where one key word shouts out what has been lost.

Perfect partners raising young

Here, the vultures rise again in Spanish skies

Mostly griffon with pointed feathered wings

Black, maybe, if really large, the vulture kings

Alive, hanging on that human thread that tries.

Love protecting life

>

This poem is about my own encounters with vultures, from my early years in India, where I took many sights for granted as vultures were so common then and such perfect scavengers. In my middle years I had a wonderful trip with my daughters to Peru where we saw condors in the Colca Canyon. In my teaching years the poem Vultures by Chinua Achebe would haunt me, not because of the vultures but because of the concentration camp name which none of our students had heard of. English lessons then would become history lessons too.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vultures_(poem)

Vultures are endangered and face many threats, electrocution, poisoning, loss of habitat, and in India because there was no awareness why the vulture population was dying off until the link bewtween drugs given to sacred cows was found to be lethal for vultures.

Here in our Andalucian skies we can see vultures above our house. Some may be the very endangered black vultures from the Aroche colony, or more likely the griffon vultures, which from one of the links seems to suggest there has been some conservation success because of the joint efforts of different groups and laws to protect these amazing birds.

https://www.4vultures.org/2019/01/29/a-2018-survey-of-griffon-vultures-in-andaluc%C3%ADa-reveals-the-population-continues-to-grow-across-the-region/

The poem has been constructed according to my 26 poem challenge for the conservation charity the RSPB who also support Birdlife International. There are 26 lines but the italicised lines are also 26 words in praise of the important place vultures have in nature and in human lives. The feral dogs in India that have moved in to take over the place of vultures are more dangerous to humans than vultures have ever been.

If you wish to donate to my challenge the link is below.

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/georginas-26-challenge-i-am-going-to-write-26-poems-about-the-wild-flora-and-fauna-here-on-our-woodland-finca-in-spain-i-will-post-these-on-my-blog

26 Poems for nature. 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, In Deep Communion with Nature’s Spring Flowers

Here are the latest poems for my 26 poem challenge to cover 26 different species found at Navasola in Southern Spain. These particular wild flowers are now fading as their time for flowering is over and a new wave of wild spring flowers have arrived. In nature so much seems transient but all the flowers have been waiting and preparing for their moments of glory all through the year or longer. They have been in long preparation to ensure their species survive.

And so I have a rather religious or spiritual link for them all. Some inspiration comes from the candle like shapes as in Jewish tradition and symbols for the creation story and the very special day of rest.  The common names of some of the flowers  provide  links to God and the bible too. All these flowers are such incredibly evolved species in their own right and show the wonder of nature or God’s creation.

Comments on the ‘form’ of poetry I am trying to create are at the end.

 

4. Tassel Hyacinth 
You capture light with blue
Radiating calm, candles curved
Upward to a lost God
We searched for in dark places
You found in your seed’s desire.

p-3-tassel-hyacinth-r.jpg

 

 

 

 

 

 

5. Star of Bethlehem
Each pointed point prepares
The Way from birth to Heaven
White beauty shines bright
A flower’s time is but a breath
Of hope above our Earth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

6. Solomon’s Seal
Did all on earth agree
To learn the ways of the wise
Praise the life of Spring
With heads hung low
Close to the living earth?

 

 

 

 

 

 

7. The Wild Peony
I wrote about you once
Your wild genes, your pink beauty,
Ready to receive
So many into your pollen filled heart
There is nectar for all.

peoni broteri

 

 

 

 

 

 

8. The Palmate Anenome
Once I drew your curves
To find my hesitant lines
Gave me silent joy.
Your flower held high
By stronger forces than I could ever know.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The form of these poems is a mix of haiku extended into my own 26 word form. I begin with the pattern of haiku of 17 syllables or words and then put in the extra to make up 26 words. Although short it still takes time for the poem to evolve and to be a tribute to each flower as well as any other meaning.

I have been thinking about different approaches to writing poetry and in particular as to what makes a poem and what also makes a good poem,  and when is a poem finished. I wished to go back and change some words on the last poem haiku at the end, I wanted the more evocative kiss rather than love .

How do poems make us feel something differently, a new perspective perhaps is important, a new way of looking at our world, and for me ‘The sound must echo the sense’ from TS Eliot. I like a lyrical feel but think I must try a different approach soon and some humour! Well, TS Eliot ranged from The Four Quartets to Cats.

If you wish to sponsor me in this challenge here is the link.

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/georginas-26-challenge-i-am-going-to-write-26-poems-about-the-wild-flora-and-fauna-here-on-our-woodland-finca-in-spain-i-will-post-these-on-my-blog