Love Poems from the Clay Plain

Description:

On the Clay Plain, life runs a little slower and a little richer. Like the Western Prairie, the sky is big and the horizon distant. There's more space to work your way down deep and decide who you are, what you think and how you feel.

Some of us even like to write poems.

This book is an example. For one couple, these are the blossoms of their life to share with those who care. Take them as you will. Perhaps inspiration will take root in your life as well.

About the Clay Plain

I'm a life resident of the western portion of Haldimand County, Ontario. Due to its flatness, it was the site of a world war II airport, now abandoned. During the airport construction, most of the surrounding forest was removed, giving the area its distant straight horizon. The winds which blow frequently from the north shore of Lake Erie add to the sense of freedom and openness which gives the region its character. The area is also famous for its fine clay, which residents will explain freezes twice a year, once in the winter with frost and again in the summer dried hard. Farmers call it a 60 second soil; the length of time available to plant, between when the clay is as soft and sticky as glue and when it is as impenetrable as stone. Wind blast from the distant straight horizon and boots stuck, firmly immobile in the thawing fields are common experiences embedded into the character of those who make this place their home, engendering a tenacity of purpose and fierce love of space.

Availability:

This book is now available from Amazon, Apple, Barnes & Noble and Kobo as well as several other fine retailers supplied by Smashwords.

Sample Poem

Winter Snow is one of my favourites from the book, but it's a hard choice. I also particularly like The Lost Portrait and Luna Amor.

Winter Snow

The wintry flakes are falling
and my wife's name is 'Snow'.
Which means on every Valentine's
I know I love her so.
For always are her eyes so bright
as diamonds held within,
just like the sunlight's dance upon
the crystals frost does spin.
No rose could ever live
where winter rules the land
but to my darlings lips
its colour would seem bland.
In the brightening days to come
the gentle breezes play
the ice shards in the evergreens
and bring to mind this way
how like the silver bells
her happy laughter seems,
sweetly captivating
in happy couples dreams.