Lockdown Poetry by Fiona Hossack – Poems from Evington
September is my favourite month of all,
When nature seems to grow to her perfection,
And keeps us holding on before the fall
When one cold night can wreak a transformation.
Lush greens in fields and hedgerows and trees,
With here and there a touch of gold or red.
Late summer sun and early Autumn breeze
That stirs the clustered leaves from overhead.
The acorns drop in multitudes around
And eager squirrels rush around in glee,
Collecting nuts to bury in the ground
In most peculiar places there can be.
An early Autumn treat before November
My favourite month, my birthday month, September.
Fiona Hossack, Lockdown Poetry, September 2020.
On the eve of Halloween
All the witches can be seen,
Witches big and witches small,
Slowly creeping through the hall.
If you encounter one of those
With greasy hair and moldy clothes,
Do be careful by the door,
Of her broomstick on the floor.
Never chase her through the house,
You might end up as a mouse!
Watch out when you’re trick and treating
It may be a witch you’re meeting.
If you play a trick on her,
You might become a ball of fur
In the cauldron she is stirring,
No, it’s no use your demurring,
Stay at home to get your treat
Or you might end up as meat!
So I said (as well I might),
To stop my kids going out at night.
But the ending of my poem
Is not as dull as staying at home.
Later in my life a change
Proved that life is very strange.
For along came little James,
Always wants to join the games.
So one day his sister and brother
Dressed him up to scare his mother,
All in red like the infamous male
A pitchfork and a long forked tail.
Just when I had opened the door:
That’s when he let out a roar.
It scared me silly on every level,
I shouted, “It’s a little Devil!”
Fiona Hossack. Lockdown Poetry October 2020
November mist envelopes all, houses, hedges, trees.
Only the stark, street lights glare eerily through the haze.
As the sun rises, the sky is streaked with blue and pink;
Golden light touches the top of a tall evergreen,
While a pink, sun-kissed magpie flies from a roof.
In the garden, a blackbird pecks at the frozen ground,
Listening with tilted head for non-existent worms.
Skittish squirrels chase each other over the grass,
Digging holes here and there for invisible nuts.
A robin trills a few clear notes from an empty branch,
As a host of hungry birds descends on the feeders,
Showering seeds and bits of nut down on the ground
Where fat waddling pigeons hoover them up,
Vying with the magpies for supremacy.
Suddenly, the neighbour’s cat pushes through the hedge.
A rapid, rush of wings and all is still and quiet for now.
The cat sniffs the air and wanders slowly down the path.
Missed again! But maybe there’s a juicy mouse about?
Silently, the fox pads along the fox walk,
He’s seen the peanuts and jumps at the feeder,
Scattering them far and wide: what a tasty feast!
Spiders’ webs shimmer and sparkle in the morning sun
And shiny, green-leaved plants glitter on the trellis.
The new day has begun.
Lockdown poetry January 2021
Memories in Winter
At the backend of the year,
When days grew short and frost lay white
Upon the rim of winter;
My mother would say, looking out into the dark,
‘The nights are drawing in!’
Pulling together the curtains, she’d
Turn back into the room, poke up the fire
And put the kettle on.
So much meaning in those words:
Full of warmth and comfort, yet
Filled with longing, as if Winter’s
Frosty footsteps trod upon
Summer’s dying leaves, and echoed
Through the blazing shades of Autumn.
Warmed by tea and toast, we’d watch
The firelight flicker in the grate.
‘Shortest day tomorrow!’ she’d
Exclaim, ‘and then the winter days
Start lengthening again!’ She’d look
Towards the Spring and Eastertime,
Promise of the warmth to come,
With holidays and summer treats.
Keeping hope alive she’d cheer
Our winters with her words.
In the Autumn of my life,
When time grows short and shadows come
To darken winter days.
I’ll remember what she said:
And when the nights are drawing in
I’ll not look out into the dark,
But close the curtains, turn up the heat,
And put the kettle on!