Literary Vegan

Duck weed is gathering green Forming continents on dark water.  Webbed feet balance on branches And the moorhen fortifies her twig mound As the pond grows colder. A slither of winter   Is snaking the air and under, The softest warning. A rat streaks across the stream, Hurried And the squirrels have extra handfuls of Berries My cardiganed arms are folded -  I too have to store these faces For when I'm surrounded by walls  And forgetful of the part of me That lives under trees  And heron wings.

  Tradition lingers Seeps down into the deep snow  Ghosts of animals

  On days like these I don't need flowers Or words That catch raindrops, Gleaming That are meant for The stream - Just another heartbeat On the other side of the blanket - Close enough To reign the rhythm Of my own, And walk it around Without moving.   c. LJ Ireton 2021  

The Sun has fallen a little, But stalls on my face And ponders the daisies, Ever happy  At my feet. I press my palms to the earth - I want to feel this peace As a tangible thing - Something I can still hold When twilight and worry Wade through the trees.

  Published Poems by LJ Ireton April 2021:  'The Chapel Stars'  Marble Poetry's first broadsheet:  https://www.marblepoetry.com/product/broadsheet-subscription/   May 2021: ' Nature's Beautiful Things'  Eucalyptus & Rose Literary Magazine:  https://www.eucalyptusandroselitmag.com/post/nature-s-beautiful-things   May 2021: 'The Magpie'  Minnow Literary Magazine: https://minnowliterarymagazine.com/   June 2021: 'Joining the Water Birds'   Chasing Shadows Literary Magazine: https://chasingshadowsmag.wordpress.com/   June 2021: 'The Turtle'   Green Ink Poetry: https://www.greeninkpoetry.co.uk/   August 2021: 'Nimue Watches' Noctivagant Press: https://www.noctivagantpress.co.uk/issues   August 2021: 'The Storm Summoner' Noctivagant Press: https://www.noctivagantpress.co.uk/issues   August 2021: 'When Flowers Sleep' The Fantastic Other: https://fantasticother.com/featured/issue-three-a-surreal-summer/  ...

She walked under mountain shadows Through her mind Barefoot on black sand Waiting for the moon That would decorate The stones around her feet And pull her back To the world Of snow-dusted peaks And perspective Where falling stars Were decoration And not omens Where clouds were Temporary distractions. Copyright LJ 2021.

    The birds of the sky know their freedom Keep us at a distance below, We who cage them And I respect that caution. But you are so wise, Little ones The perspective you have  Is what we need To get ourselves Off the ground.        Copyright LJ 2021.

  There is a chill to this April day, With white skies too bright Without the sun's yellow filter, And wind too sharp Against my skin. Shielding my face, I gaze down at my feet Only to be surprised by A gathering of pink teardrops. In spite of the cold, I smile at the colour And into the blaze of blossom That is above me, Blocking out the stark white wall Of cloud. Now, the same sharp wind blows Petals down, past, around me So I stay. I concede under the trees That I am grateful To be under This kind of snow.       Copyright LJ 2021.

This patch of grass Is open to the roads, The sky, the path - But I let my limbs sink into the grass, My knees past the daisies Directly under the Sun. The passers by Can watch me unfold - Yesterday,  I was one of the Moving ones, Imagining this. Copyright LJ 2021.

  God gifted us the Sun. I don't know why He hides it some days -  Maybe he doesn't But when it appears, I feel the call Deep from my bones To be underneath Such a serene Energy. Copyright LJ 2021.  

    I could not enjoy even the sunniest day When my mind was ill,  Turned in on me -  I only saw the shadows it cast. Now I ask my mind to describe the sky - And while it is occupied, I raise my face To the Sun.  Copyright LJ 2021.

  The Sun is coming – Spring flowers In her flame red hair. Her veil flows down her back, Becoming a flickering train Behind her That turns up the earth as she passes, Leaving frost thorns burrowed And snowdrops standing In their place. Soon we will be able to walk Along the ground, Barefoot among the bluebells.       Copyright LJ 2021.

  I forget, when stones Block my way, That when water flows Over rocks, The curve Catches more light.         Copyright LJ 2021.

You have been collecting pencils Your whole life. You have enough so far To colour this scene The way you want to. And those you add To your pencil case Will be the perfect shades To mark your future Masterpiece. Copyright LJ 2021

  I am creating A beautiful picture, Crafting, using words. While writing, I watch my curled-up cat In the corner  Be her own artwork, Just by breathing - Beauty already exists,  Beyond my own efforts Of imitating. And yet,   Knowing this, I want to try -  And keep on writing. Copyright LJ 2021

  Stones broken and cracked My feet keep walking over Searching for straight lines Copyright LJ 2021

  Ice outfits sparkle Snowflakes sway to the music Then bow to Winter Copyright LJ 2021.

A few feathery  Flakes of snow Floated down In front of April. The blossoms, bristling, Furled each flower -  They would not have A loose petal  Fall And be mistaken For a  Snowflake. Copyright LJ 2021.

I make shapes with my body.  I have lined the horizon, Saluted the moon and Looked towards the clouds. But sometimes,  I move to be small - Like a circular shell, or To lower my chin Away from the world. By creating forms True to myself, They will be different each day - The slowest form of dance.

  I met the wind Half-way up the hill -  It whispered possibilities I gave it my gratitude Then we parted  Ways, Moving in different  Shapes  Than before. Copyright LJ 2021.

How came I here Closing Boleyn's own curtains? I look around, speculative, silent, The ghost of a crown Still on my head, Flickering like the candles In the dark. I kneel in prayer My faith is a fire Higher than the fireplace flame - But I am housed in Treasonous coals. Copyright LJ 2021.

  The trees rebuilt the old stone church. Their trunks took their places among the pews,  Where the plant-covered pillars used to be. Leaves entered the window spaces  And wound around the empty panes That once pictured Eden. The branches, curious, felt along the wooden carvings of creatures,  Then let the animals in. And the treetops replaced the high arches, As they themselves bowed Their heads down in prayer. Copyright LJ 2021

Follow me, Robin  When the people come back And noise returns When I have to wear My other self in buildings. Follow me You sitting free on branches,  With me looking up Not thinking about everything  I am doing or have done - Just feet and roots and sun And you, singing. Copyright LJ 2021.

Pastel skies And pairs of birds The Sun appears sometimes, Soft like ballerina steps -  Previews of the scenes to come. But the cold still lingers Fingers are curled into cardigan sleeves. The interval isn't over Yet. Copyright LJ 2021.

Such statues we, Accused unjustly  Hold innocence  In stone -  Heavier than Our crowns That you made us Take down, Only now To be Lifted higher  In effigy For others to see. Copyright LJ 2021.

  I love poetry Because just one word can make All the difference Copyright LJ 2021

The same clouds are drifting That I saw a minute ago The light hasn't changed My feet haven't moved But I have just read  A simple message from you And now my day feels different,  So different, Because you made me feel Understood. Copyright LJ 2021.

My cat makes crescent shapes On the bed She is my moon, Soft white light following me Wherever I go in the dark. The tiger orange circle On the chair Is my sun, My wake up call in the morning  Hovering over my head. The next time I don't feel connected  To the outside, to nature, I will remember this -  That the lights in the sky Came down to join me - That there are also Worlds inside walls. Copyright LJ 2021

When I read stories, There are camp fires And caves  Or blankets  Or inns - All are chapters  Not to be missed. So then, Why do I find it so hard to see, For myself  That pauses are powerful, That resting is still part of The journey? Copyright LJ 2021.

I went to the forest To gather some words To bring home Like the children do The dried pinecones To cover in glitter. Above me the dark green canopy  Was a kaleidoscope -  Shifting triangles of white light With each movement. Underneath, the pale brown leaves Were peppered with acorns  And secret signs of buried treasure  Only the squirrels know. The stream was excited  Because it rained last night And I, because more movement  Means more dancing of the light On surface of the water, That I watched from the bank  Made of rocks and roots - And the face of a rat,  Now and then. I walked back to the tree trunks Where I did find plenty of pinecones, But these were the words I put in my pockets to pull out again And cover in glitter. Copyright LJ 2020.

I cannot see The Sun As a chariot -   Even if she was Sheathed in gold - For she would not be pulled By anything. No, she must be the horse itself - Her hair of flame Rippling with her power That we could only follow, Being the passengers.   Copyright LJ 2021.

I have seen rainbows arch And fall down waterfalls, But this twilight sky Was a rainbow rolled out Across the horizon The colours matched exactly -  As though one painter's pallette  Had seeped in  To another's landscape portrait - Sunset referencing sunlight. Copyright LJ 2021

The vine  Winds upwards, With its own energy Of light Inside its leaves. When I am still, And uninspired, It invites me  To be a part of The climb And creation Of beautiful things. To connect - Just a touch  The hem is enough -  To grow a bud Along the branches. Copyright LJ 2021

Don't you think it's  Enchanting That we can let an Orchestra Into our room While we drink tea? Or let birdsong fly Over the teapot? That we can bring The outside in - Wires and windows Manoeuvring  Sounds  While the walls stay Still But the liquid  Rippling? That we can drink In company? Copyright LJ 2021.

I never thought I'd take fresh air for granted Then the masks came  And the indoor rules And suddenly  I was gasping. Copyright LJ 2021.

Many animals know  Secrets of serenity But they won't tell you them. To learn you must Walk alongside A creature of moment -  It is a living kind of knowledge  With no spoken answer -  And yet their peace can be heard.  Copyright LJ 2021.

I place my rainbow rose Against a wall of red brick  So the yellow stands out, Swirled around violet and vibrant pink It may seem unnatural  To have inky blue leaves But the Sun gets the sunflower Let the rainbow have one, I think. Copyright LJ 2021.

A knowing Cheshire Cat moon Escorted me into the evening. I marvelled at the light blue hue After so much darkness and snow. Is this why he was smiling? I breathed in a suggestion of Spring In the air -  Relief into my soul. I walked under a shy blackbird just Beginning his nightly song Who is out there?  Something is awake. Change will follow. Copyright LJ 2021.

   Snow falls and ice forms  In front of the palace But the chill is inside Gliding down the chamber Her gown ghostly white, Watched by portraits Who cannot move But do not judge her - She only ever wanted to parade, To be seen. Copyright LJ 2021

The ground is covered in frost. Underneath, the frozen buds Are held in glass, Grass statues. Indoors I push my little Rose plant into each slither of sunlight  It smiles at me It's the least I could do. I turn my face to the window, Hold it in the fragile, momentary glow.  I understand the flowers In Winter, the gratitude.  Copyright LJ 2021

I stepped out of the Yellow light and  White noise Into the dark street Lined with trees. I had not managed to see the Sun - This was the best I could do. But the night blue Was filled with black shapes Singing, Singing into the night - Shadow songs, Phantom birds Making orchestras of branches Above my head. I had thought There was nothing beautiful left of the day by then - But the evening said: 'Listen' There is Everything. Copyright LJ 2021.

I don't like the cold, But I love decoration -  The forest dressed  In diamonds, Inviting everyone to  The ballroom, To marvel at  The white drapes, The fashion of the season. The trees swish their Borrowed gowns -  They like to be the  Centre of attention To those who admire them In any outfit. Copyright LJ 2021.

I am not afraid To walk through the woods With a red hood And a cape I met the wolves That ran through My brain Once upon a time And the forest ones Never scared me  Again. Copyright LJ 2021. 

I don't like loud noises And neither do little birds When they alight,  I approach Slowly -  Even crisp leaves can ruin careful steps When entering the presence of a small soul  Sometimes I must stand still for a long time  Human peace is the open door to nature. I can only write poetry in complete silence. A pause -  One second to learn trust and new colours, One more to answer curious eyes - Then, hurried scratches through earth, shouts and sharp barks behind me Cut through my moment -  My quiet one It flies away. I exhale As the branch shakes In unsettled air. Copyright LJ 2021.

What parts of paradise Are you missing, Looking at the pavements Or just straight ahead? On your left is a water rat swimming By the bank - Mice in water Seem incongruous Yet there he goes! And yes the trees have no leaves But all the better For the bold robin Who landed right beside you. I can barely walk, On the greyest of days, For all the faces that Stop me - And remind me of The way the world was, Once.   Copyright LJ 2021.

A woman you destroy, for a woman you need In your quest for heresy, You look for the Queen By pulling each bone out of me My body screams But I will not say her name. You test me with torture, though already condemned For speaking of scriptures On the streets and with friends But I believe these words will live Long after I am dead And I will not say her name. Copyright LJ 2021. (Anne Askew was a 16th Century Protestant Martyr who was friends with Queen Catherine Parr.)

I am trying to write some Pretty or profound thing When the cat paws at my pen. I give it to him to play with. He is happy when he knocks it over, Pushes it with curiosity on the carpet. It is then I realise That this pause on the page,  The action that stopped my writing, Is the pretty and profound moment I want to write about. Copyright LJ 2021

My wings are iridescent. They sail by reflecting the sky. Not everyone likes this. I have been caught many times - Someone stood on my wings As if that new height Would make them fly and glow, While I was crawling. The cruel ones do not know That you cannot soar, cannot shine  By holding any form of light down. I leave them wondering why. Even in the dark, My wings resemble the stars That cannot be grounded. So I fly. Copyright LJ 2021