010 Fleeting Purity

Another poem from Houghton Hall Park.

Fleeting Purity

The silent freshness of a new day,
its untrod pathway of snowy novelty
awaits your first crisp infringement -
imprinting claim upon the moment.
No greyed contaminationsbr>no encroachment of step
holding to tradition's chained melody.
This day is pure, this day is holy,
this is new day
clean-sparkled with prospect

Even here, mid shine and glisten,
shadows play their trancing tunes.
Matting fingers steal their ways
from yesterday's encumbered moments
to touch and foul with blistered lies.
This blanket, strwen on nature's head -
a mask or jewel in balance poised
offers no pretence of wealth
but clothes and costumes
all but upright strength of self

with birthing sun this mantle fades
from single flakes to melding flow,
its gentle tread seeking
earth's cool compassion,
its shield
redundant
overpowered by the rising sun.

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