Michael Edwards





The shimmering leaves of darkest green,

amassed against the moonlit sky.

A thousand silhouettes look down

before the moon departs the scene.


The grove of beech, arms proudly borne,

in all their decorous majesty

above the path which winds below

as breaking light announces morn.


Puncturing through a beech trees spread

a lonely shaft of early sunlight

falls on twigs which lie in wait

to snap beneath the falling tread.


And passing on where where trees are shun

and bracken makes its marshy bed

the fading dyes of early growth

laid siege by glare of summer sun.


Downward past the hedging frieze

in furrowed fields, the golden heads

bow and curtsy, bend and sway

in deference to the summer breeze.


The nettle-funnelled winding pass,

twisting, snaking to the sea

disappears among the dunes

and stabilising maram grass.


Emerging where the beach line lies

with rocks and stones and turning tides

where shells and driftwood and detritus

mark the lonely path’s demise.





  • Fay Slimm.

    Ah - this has to be one of your best pieces of descriptive poetry Michael - a delight to read over again this picture of a path's journey to seaward demise. A perfect match to the striking watercolour too.

  • Goldfinch60

    Super write. The path to nowhere but does nowhere exist?

    Great painting, I really like this.

    • Michael Edwards

      Thanks Goldfinch - great question - does nowhere exist? Perhaps, sadly many live there failing to appreciate the beauty of our planet or the love of others.

    • WriteBeLight

      Such imagery Michael. Your very talented!

    • P.H.Rose

      A lovely write Michael
      Well done

      • Michael Edwards

        I appreciate your comments - thanks very much PH

      • MendedFences27

        This one is truly impressive. Not only for the pathways trail winding toward the sea, but your descriptions of it and the final "demise," are brilliant. A great poem. Loved it. - Phil A.

        P.S. - Is that a French clown looking down from the clouds?

        • Michael Edwards

          A pierrot - could be - whats known as a happy accident. thanks so much for your very generous comments Phil.

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