Rachel J Bowler's photos with the keyword: park
Odyssey
14 Jan 2025 |
|
|
|
Now only glimpsed.
A myth.
A lamentation.
A disappearing
Sanctuary.
The fog recedes.
Fleeing from
Its own vision.
The destination
Never reached.
Hope
07 Dec 2024 |
|
|
|
Hope lies on the sofa
Barely venturing out
Into the winter sun,
Into the grey skies
Of past dreams.
In poverty, the
Church sits empty.
Serenity stirs
For a moment
Preparing to drift
Back into sleep.
Sometimes spring
Never comes.
Snow Scene
20 Oct 2024 |
|
|
|
Show me the beauty of that snowy-scene.
This is how I want to remember things.
Beneath the lamplight in my street;
Bright and alive.
Tonight I am wide-eyed
Tracing tracks along the road.
Let me watch the people stroll,
Hand in hand.
Hope shines for a moment.
And I will dream.
Escape
17 Mar 2024 |
|
|
|
I wait for a tomorrow
Filled with summer.
I feed my thoughts
But this is no sad interim.
My eyes are impatient
For the frost to melt
To be contracted anew,
The blunt force allayed.
But the sharpness shrinks,
When the fullness of winter
Is renewed daily,
Until the view becomes clear.
And dullness reminds me
That I escaped.
(Inspired by Sonnet 56)
Autumn Again
03 Oct 2023 |
|
|
|
I often go to the place
Where the trees still whisper
Their time travel magic,
Releasing memories
Frozen in the sun.
Is this the trickery
Of hope?
After all these years,
What am I expecting?
Perhaps a sign
That the year
Has not yet ended.
Uno
The Winter
Spring
18 Jul 2023 |
|
|
|
The cloak of loneliness was a distant weed.
Something only half comprehended,
Barely regarded.
Pondered on but not yet worn,
Let alone handed down.
In the shade of spring
Everything stretched ahead,
And there was no rush to get home.
Silence
08 Jul 2023 |
|
|
|
Martin Czerny
You explain this world to me with an image. I realise then that you have been reduced to poetry.
Albert Camus
Autumn
27 Jun 2023 |
|
|
|
Floating on the weight
Of hope,
Autumn flattens
The echoes of morning.
At the juncture
I imagine finding you,
Sometimes picturing you
In the distance that
Conceals
Any chance
Of finding you
Once more.
Navigation
30 Apr 2023 |
|
|
|
In a thousand
Different directions,
Following many
Paths not one,
The branches
Show us the way,
And whisper
A kind of freedom
We can barely
Understand.
Old Memory
Morning Star
15 Apr 2023 |
|
|
|
Morning star,
Out of the winter sun
You appeared in black
With chords of comfort,
And all the songs
I had ever known.
I traded my soul
For a lyre
For you to play.
And when the darkness
Came I listened, until
A nightmare
Set me free.
Coming Back
13 Apr 2023 |
|
|
|
In the winter I came back,
When the mist was down.
I could still read the signs
That pointed the way
Towards solitary benches.
So I chose one and sat,
And drizzle mingled
Between every pore,
Until it reached
Ethereal peace.
Low Mist
The Past
10 Apr 2023 |
|
|
|
Martin Czerny
This photo and the previous five were taken at Warley Park and Lightwoods Park near Birmingham. These parks are separated by a main road, but are almost interconnected. They have been a feature of my life since I was born. The bandstand in the photo is in Lightwoods Park. The photo was taken on a heavily foggy day in January. When my parents decided to move house in 1977, they moved from living just around the corner from Lightwoods Park, to a very short walk from Warley Woods. My mum would wheel me around Lightwoods Park in my pram, and I spent most of my free time as a child and teenager in these two parks. Both places have a strong nostalgic hold over me - as places where youthful dreams were conceived, and as places where broken dreams are reflected on as an adult.
The Ladder
25 Feb 2023 |
|
|
|
'There's the ladder without-a-top,' said Silky, pointing. 'No one has ever climbed beyond the three thousandth rung, because they get so tired. And there's the tree-that-sings. It's singing now.'
So it was - a whispery, beautiful song, all about the sun and the wind and rain. The children could understand it perfectly, although the tree did not use any words they knew. It just stood there and poured out its song in tree language.
Enid Blyton - The Folk of the Faraway Tree
The Grey Lady
25 Feb 2023 |
|
|
|
Through the house
No longer there,
She walks.
At a distance,
Across the open grass.
Sitting on a bench
In the height of summer.
At dusk, she lingers
On the outskirts
Of the fair.
A thousand years
Away,
Alluded to
By lovers
On a r
Rainy day.
The real story
Never told.
The winter warning.
Jump to top
RSS feed- Rachel J Bowler's latest photos with "park" - Photos
- ipernity © 2007-2025
- Help & Contact
|
Club news
|
About ipernity
|
History |
ipernity Club & Prices |
Guide of good conduct
Donate | Group guidelines | Privacy policy | Terms of use | Statutes | In memoria -
Facebook
Twitter