Autumn Post

It’s time for the obligatory post about the loveliness of autumn. I’ve kept the poem short and hope readers of lizzieballagherpoetry will enjoy it.

Walk in the Trees

Head in the clouds,
Boots in the mud.
Back in the sun,
Face in the breeze.
Dreams in my heart:
Walk in the trees.

© Lizzie Ballagher

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Dancing on the Third Day

Here’s to a third day of dancing, this time English Morris dancing from the Cotswold and Border Morris traditions…dancing with bells on!

Dancing Shoes with Bells on

Tatters coats flying, white hankies aloft, all our feet are leaping.
We count the rhythm, sing the words
Of songs my cousins sang before the war,
Of songs my granny would have sung
(Had she not been quite so ladylike!)

And the great drum echoes the pulse of joy;
And Jim on the squeezebox pumps & grins;
And Bev oompahs away on the trombone.
Julie-Ann whoops wildly while Patrick saws away in perfect time…
“You’re on the fiddle again!” we cry, on cue.

Melodies make our hearts rise up.
My left foot falls, and so do theirs; my arms are raised,
And so are theirs, dipping & whirling, stepping & smiling.
The bells whisper & twinkle, ping, rattle & ring.
Red ribbons & purple ruffles fly.

© Lizzie Ballagher

Morris at Shepway 1985Morris at Leeds Castle 1986