Cliffs sprung with moorland
jagged slate underskirts
birds sit watching, waiting
morvran hang oily wings
beaks stark statements
sand a swirl of shadows
toes in snaking retreat.
Ocean a rubble of pilchards
the shoal slating
grey waves slipperack
the air harbours wind and salt scents.
Anna Chorlton
I step outside, mind clenched,
wind rustles honeysuckle
delicate bowls of cream.
I wait for you, urgent wings
focused on feeding,
humming, humming, humming.
Bumble bees bounce between blooms
cabbage whites flit on the fray,
My arms chilled by breeze
thoughts dissipate in a river of flight.
Anna Chorlton 2025
A slip of butterflies
glides subtle wraiths
along settling herbs,
taste tangy marjoram
dank heads of buddleia
an apple young as winter’s indifference.
©Anna Chorlton
While I was walking between cabins with my bucket of cleaning products, there were many birds beside the water I could have stayed there for hours.
Stepping out of a cabin
with my cloths and mops,
trees open to embrace
an olive-green mill lake.
On a plinth stands a bird
so still I ask if it’s real,
white beak closed in hiatus.
Reflection merges
a swirl in the water
cormorant dry as shadow.
I step out of a cabin,
on the plinth, dusky wings tucked,
a heron sleek as a rose,
goslings forage on the opposite shore.
Sighs linger along lakeside reed roots, an eery gold rises hangs, still as future's mudflats.
Ice stars underfoot bones of winter trees fragile waifs shield water blue as eggshells beyond, the moor rising.
Winter Garland
Woods hang with the ghost of orange
roam eyes for glints of red
listen for hints in time
a steady pumping beat
along sleeping trunks snake ivy
blue-green as winter seas
a wreath of possibilities
know not the length of life
down wooded banks toward the river
a fist of festive holly.
©Anna Chorlton 2023
Apple sways shawls
weighted with fruit
ready to crunch.
Tender leaves
flecked with bronze
rustling with shyness.
I love the magic of arriving at the beach to the joy of coastal flowers. My favorites are thrift or sea pinks.
Petals of sunlit sea pinks sway to the timbre of longing. Waves crash in a surge of wanting and the black sand remembers.
Last Christmas, we had a feast and dance and performed the Wizard of Oz in the magical Cob Barn. Here is a poem remembering it and looking forward to Christmas to come. Merry Christmas!
Cob Barn Christmas We dance beneath a wreath of threaded fir, four red candles flicker in the dusk trestle tables line the barn heaped with cheese, crackers, and gingerbread. Christmas gifts glint at our ears a chill slices our bodies, we dance on and all about the sound of an ancient stereo the smell of hay, mice, and winter. Anna Chorlton December 2022
This summer I have spent my time walking in the woods, across the moors and along the beaches near by in South East Cornwall. This poem captures images from my photographs of Golitha Falls, The Withybrook Marsh and Downderry Beach.
A Cornish Summer A glimpse of gold through green, boughs a bronze embrace. Moorland sweeping fields, tender beds held by reeds, granite. Sea a surly glas a boat waits in the bay her red sail furled. Rocks shrugged with weed barnacles, anemone people linger, dogs swim. Anna Chorlton 2022
