Five Compass Points Home

Published on by Laura Bloomsbury 
1.
Up on the Western rise, where moorland 
meets the wondering eye, the vaulted lark
intones in broad-brimmed skies. Yellow hills
backdrop behind; most Aprils, clothed in Rape
or suns that give my house a mellow glow

2.
Heading home with head bent down, I quickstep
past a canvas door, the mongrel's vigilante snarl.
Besides the poorest tumble-down a man appears,
half-dressed, despite the North wind's roar. 
His pastured pony ruminates, unstirred.

3.
High and wild's the hawthorn hedge where small birds
nest. It bounds three fields away, a windbreak
to the east. The earth lies comatosed in snow
yet still the willows whip and elder by the back
door creeks, and taps its thin, dry sticks, 

4.
Sauntering home and southward bound
a woodland parasoles my path. And all the desert
secrets of oasis there laid bare in garden parody
An orchard, flowers, and dugout pond 
where I and wild things drink up shade. 

5.
My house is more than just a name, a board game rebound
from square one. Past hazards, toils, and unforeseens
I breathe a sigh and turn the key. This centred place
of compass points, where rest and refuge
settle in - till heaven hoists me home

For my MTB prompt; Writing the Five Directions we are constructing a poem in 5 Pentastich Quintains (unregulated rhyme, meter etc). Inspired by Hererra’s poem “Five Directions to my house” with the option of using 5 phrases from that poem, as here with yellow hills; canvas door; the earth; desert secrets; a name.

28 thoughts on “Five Compass Points Home”

  1. I love that there are five compass points, Laura, and the yellowness of the first stanza – a mellow glow indeed. My favourite stanza is:
    ‘High and wild’s the hawthorn hedge where small birds
    nest. It bounds three fields away, a windbreak
    to the east. The earth lies comatosed in snow
    yet still the willows whip and elder by the back
    door creeks, and taps its thin, dry sticks’ – it reminds me of my home.

  5. I love the feel of this, and especially the final stanza. Especially these lines:

    “My house is more than just a name, a board game rebound
    from square one. Past hazards, toils, and unforeseens
    I breathe a sigh and turn the key.”

    That’s a wonderful place, a wonderful feeling. Until Heaven hoists us home.❤️

  6. This centred place… oh yes, and how!

    You take us there, to rest and refuge, along a poetic path par excellence.

    And thank you for a prompt that was a delight to explore and play with.

  9. Laura, you’re a fixture of the landscape just as much as everything you describe. There is something to be said for staying put. Beautiful writing for a special place. Love the old man with the pony.

    1. Did I inadvertently compose a cadralor after all 😉no seriously thank you for your comment Merril – I like the notion of ‘elegant’

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