DAWN... (My new poem inspired by a Peter Brook painting...)

 Dawn…

(My new poem inspired by Peter Brook’s painting…)

He really didn’t want to be found. Nothing serious

You understand, just a matter of a rabbit or two

Poached. It wasn’t his fault though cuz his dad was hurt

In a factory accident and couldn’t work but his mum had her kids to feed.  

He was the oldest of seven you see and they all needed to eat.

He nearly got away too but the farmer was furious

When he caught him scurrying along a stone wall, in view

Of his shotgun and the old chap gave chase, his language vicious and curt

But the lad found spiky grass to hide in, wet with dew and rueing his misdeed,

His boots were soaked with animal blood and were chilling his sore feet.

The dawn though had mesmerised him, its pinks glorious,

But though the walls hid him in their shade, through the gap he spotted a few 

Curious sheep which gawped  back at him with quizzical expressions, yet alert

And they involuntarily threatened to give him away, this staring ovine breed, 

Accusing with staring eyes and forcing the boy into a rapid, tense and hurried retreat…

Pete Ray…

18th February 2026…  

A lovely sky, a golden field and almost cartoon-like sheep stare…

I imagined a young lad after rabbits on a farmer’s land being chased but getting away, then hiding, until the sheep spooked him into rushing away…

The thoughts of the Sand Martin...

'The faces of four staring sheep look outwards towards the viewer in this idyllic painting of a rural scene. They are well spaced and look as if standing stock still. The rear of a fifth sheep is just apparent within what appears to be a cosy and contained spot almost surrounded by dark stone walls. 

Two substantial almost vertical dark stone gateposts without a gate allow the viewer access into this beautiful and almost private scene. 

Behind the vista of the sheep is a sloping stonewall that completes the framing of these farm animals. Their inbred characteristics to be alert to the slightest possible danger and to all follow suit bring all faces up from constant grazing towards any possible intrusion or threat. So while an onlooker looks at them they look back and outwards from this painting. 

The range of bright warm colours and tones around the sheep together with their whiteness draws the eye to focus on the sheep and particularly the one mid-centre of the gatepost framing. 

The apricot to blue grey of the sky foretells a bright warm day ahead and it seems very early with grey mist in the far distance. Maybe a glint of sunlight has lit up the grass around the sheep to such stunning effect. Tall dark green grass in the foreground has a sharpness of texture against the soft low grass at each side giving yet another contrast of texture that makes this agricultural scene so realistic and true to life in every small exquisite detail.'

WOMEN ON THE BEACH- A CHILLY DAY... (My new poem inspired by Dee Nickerson's painting...)

 Women On The Beach- A Chilly Day…

(Inspired by Dee Nickerson’s painting…)

Fashions are displayed on a dog walk, during a cold, bracing

Stroll across a winter beach, featuring small stones and an irritable,

Restless ocean the texture of ice, whilst seabirds glide on updrafts  

To tantalise the pooches below, gallivanting across the sand.

The women wear coats in dark shades of green, blue and

Dun, there is a curious assemblage of headwear, long patterned skirts, as wafts

Of hair billow like tendrils in the sea breeze. But only one face is visible: 

Pale, placid and pensive, which both the elements and the company is embracing… 

Pete Ray…

17th February 2026…

The women are quite remarkably dressed, the dogs aren’t chasing slung balls and the gulls are doing what they do on chilly days…

Such a fine view of an English beach…

The thoughts of an anonymous source...

‘The textures, colours and scene of this painting all pique my interest; women walking on a beach in chilly windy weather along with a number of dogs.

The pale shades of the blue and white sky and sea and the pallid sand contrast strongly with the deep colours worn by the women, such that they are the immediate focus. There are five almost in a line or row, with one other a little way off..

All appear to be wrapped up very well with thick winter coats, long skirts, with several also wearing trousers beneath skirts. One is hatless, a young figure at the front of the line with long auburn hair blowing out behind her indicating that they are walking into the wind. Her green coat and low slung cross body bag are the perfect contrast to her beautiful hair. 

In contrast the next in line looks to be an older person as her hair appears white and her stance is hunched. She looks fragile as if the wind is blowing hard against her body as she huddles with her hands deep into her pockets. 

Alongside but slightly behind is another younger looking figure perhaps trying to look at the older lady as her head inclines towards her or possibly towards the sea. 

A little way back one woman has stopped and turned around to speak or listen to the last in the line who casually stands with hands in her jacket pocket, as her long flowing hair or scarf fringing escapes from beneath her hat.

All women are wearing dark footwear in grey or black as if in some sort of club. Perhaps they are part of a women’s group of some sort and exercising their dogs, yet no notice is being taken of the six animals by any of the six women. 

All six dogs are facing the same direction as they and the women are following a familiar route along the beach. Curiously small stones or shells flag up the path the five are on and this may be firmer underfoot than the stretch where the lone figure is walking.

The seabirds swooping and soaring overhead are plentiful and the sea itself, a pale blue white, deepening in colour towards the horizon, looks cold but inviting with a blue sky above and light fluffy clouds. The day looks full of promise.

Could this picture be a metaphor for life? That we all go along in the same direction even if one may strike out alone? Does one take a moment or break to stop, consider, question, confer and share? 

Perhaps it is simply women on a beach on a chilly, windy day, out for a walk and then off for a latte and natter…

Or maybe off to begin their various busy days…’ 

MORNING WALK, MARPLE... (My new poem inspired by Lucy Manfredi's painting...)

 Morning Walk, Marple…

(My new poem inspired by Lucy Manfredi’s painting…)

Reflecting its early morning chill in the canal’s cold

Stillness, a cottage takes succour from a timid sunrise,

Barely noticed by the figure on the snowy towpath and

Who treads a furrow with vigour, perhaps by solace enthused  

In the icy solitude of Marple’s historic cut.

Reflecting upon the canal’s history, a tale might be told

Of barges hauled by working horses with sad, accepting eyes,

Transporting cotton perhaps and urged forth by human hand;

Or of the industrial air by smoke and smells and noise diffused,

As hooves dropped uneasily along a well worn rut…  

Pete Ray…

17th February 2026…

  

Such an atmospheric painting.

Couldn’t help thinking about the past…

Marple is in Greater Manchester, a few miles from Stockport…

  

A source of mine contributed the following about the painting…

‘This beautiful icy snowy winter scene depicting a canal bridge and towpath along with an adjacent house situated in an enviable location has a light ethereal feel.

A recent heavy fall of snow is apparent from the white and blue-white icy shades of the trees. 

All foliage is completely obliterated by the snow and even the towpath is hard to distinguish due to snow. 

A solitary figure wearing hat and a red coat trudging along draws the eye and offers a clear focus of attention to the scene.

The scene is painted in such a way that there is almost an impression of a haze as if very light, almost undetectable snow is falling into the eyes.

The canal bank merges imperceptibly into the icy water that could well be frozen in places and the stunning detached house next to the bridge is delicately reflected in the canal, reminding us that at one time whole families actually lived their lives on canal barges. 

Those times, so different from our own times, saw the canals used as busy highways transporting goods and coal for industry. 

At that time canals were most likely heavily polluted with all manner of human waste. 

Now heavy pollution caused by people is not always so obvious and the canals are places of leisure, relaxation and joy. Even in winter the picture shows us that they are places of great beauty.

The warm brown tones of the bridge, the house and the wall all built, like the canals, by human endeavour contrast with the delicately painted snowscape and the entrancing sky. 

We are reminded that Mother Nature may at times be inconvenient but is always awesome to behold, as in this gorgeous picture…’

EARLY SPRING, 1917... (My new poem inspired by Josef Stoitzner's painting...)

 Early Spring, 1917…

(Inspired by Josef Stoitzner’s painting…)

Troubled thoughts and images of discomfort flitted

Through his mind, as he lay near the River Isonzo, resting.

  The faces of Italian prisoners, distraught and contorted with fear

As they sat in filthy defeated groups haunted him and he closed his eyes,

Imagining spring…

Mindshots of leisurely rambles before the war flitted

Through his mind’s eye, as a longing welled up, testing

His resolve and fortitude. Melting snow streaked slopes sheer,

Where words of love had been spoken, reflected in sad eyes

Last spring…

Visions of distant ranges beneath a misted buff sky flitted

Through the turmoil, a peaceful landscape contrasting

Sharply with the detritus of trench warfare, grenades, gas and tears.

Exhausted and meagrely fed, the infantryman, through woeful eyes 

Craved home in spring…

Memories of still wintering hillside trees rendered as bare fractures, flitted

Through the futility like scorched branches or flame-thrown skeletal death; a lasting

Nightmare. And he wondered whether the tryst they had made last year

Would be realised. And he wept from sore and grieving eyes

For the next spring…

Pete Ray…

16th February 2026… 

An imaginary Austrian soldier, fighting for Germany at the Battle of Caporetto, the Twelfth Battle of Isonzo, Italy in October 1917. 

The Italians suffered a terrible defeat, so maybe the above character was again able to meet his lady on the Austrian slopes as depicted by Josef Stoitzner.

I would like to think so…

An appreciation from another source...

'This stunning painting has a subtle gentleness and yet at the same time rather dramatic with  an almost graphic quality. A limited palette is used to wonderful effect adding to both the drama and the subtlety.

A very sharp slope in the foreground immediately draws my attention. It depicts melting snow revealing underlying grass of an unusual yellowish brown, almost olive green shade, having been deprived of sunlight for some considerable time. A deciduous tree leans backwards as if trying to keep hold of the earth to stop it from falling downhill and is just coming into dainty fresh bud.

As the eye travels down the slope several completely bare trees are depicted against dark green conifers, such that trunk and branches appear white and then also grey against the patches of snow on the ground. It is a beautiful contrast.

Lower lying pastures are delicately painted, incorporating conifers fading from dark greens into blue greens and then into blue greys into the far distance, giving a marvellous vista of stunning countryside and distant uplands and mountains.

A subtle hint of warmth in the sky confirms that Spring is certainly here...'