A Windmill – a poem by Lynn Woollacott

A Windmill

Begin with black, white
and blue. Mish and mash,
slop and swirl, sweep
and dash, dash, dash.
Mark it, flip it, torrent it,
squirl it, mix it up,
give it texture
and a drop of rain.
Lighten in the windmill
to a ghostly image,
paste the horizon of sea and sky
a gap into the unknown.
Bring in the brimstone butterfly
and the yellow horned poppy –
let its petals stand
to tactile adoration.
There must be green
in shades of mingled light.
Darken places where
wild things hide. Heighten places
where wild things roost.
Fill in the windmill –
let the windows reflect sunlight,
let the sails merge with the sky.
There must be the odd red brick
where willow foliage blends,
and tumbling flint stones
where water trickles through
the gaps meandering
down to the familiar stream.
Peer through the lower window
at the wicker rocking chair,
the gingham cushions,
the chequered curtains
where tiny wild creatures
sleep on the window ledge
waiting for her return
with a waft of lavender,
a bound of wet dog,
the sound of put-down sea-shells.

 

Lynn Woollacott grew up with six brothers and three sisters – all older. She had many jobs from sewing buttons on cardigans to working as a lab technician in an all-girls school. She gained a BSc (Hons) with the Open University and went on to teach environmental studies at outdoor centres in Norfolk. Still yearning to write she studied creative writing with the University of East Anglia. Lynn has been widely published and won prizes for poetry, and has published two Poetry collections with Indigo Dreams Publishing in 2011 and 2014, and a romance novel e-book available on Amazon. www.lynn.woollacott.co.uk

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