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published in Equinox, 2005
Finglesham
I
watch the grasses sway and stir
as
the lavender croons a sharp song
to
the visiting bees.
A
brown-edged butterfly
condescends
to the cabbage whites.
A
dove coos in the distance,
all
peaceful here.
Only
the blood red of poppies
rustles
a whisper of conflict..
Rest
After Hunting
Old
bones lie here,
under
grass, clover, thyme, elder flower
beneath
the neat paths and towering trees,
near
the vanished stable yard
of
the proud old Duke.
Now
his hunters
lie
underground and with daybreak
their
ghostly whinny
echoes
with the hunting horn
where
now the children of the fox he hounded
lie
cosy, homely under the bushes.
Dancers
Amidst
the ballet of the grasses
butterflies
swoop and dive
performing,
the
Billy Elliots of the show.
Val Doyle
Note:
The organic garden at Finglesham in Kent was the site
of the Duke of Wellington's stables when he was Warden of the
Cinque Ports.
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