I have always been inspired by local hills to write poetry and even a short walk can inspire many words. My love for writing and walking go hand in hand and my imagination does run wild with some of the ideas I write about.
Gloucestershire Hills are indeed my very big muse. No matter how many hills / mountains I have been up or around there is no bigger influence on my work than the local hills I live.
I tend to lose my heart upon the hills to get the poetry flowing and sometimes I come back with a great idea or two.
My wife always jokes how I like a good ‘bench shot’. I don’t mind as I just keep taking photographs of them. There’s something about them that I find almost mystical if definitely calming. A place to rest the legs, heart and mind to take in the view around.
It’s like I can see the view in where I want to go in life. So sitting on the hill on the bench I can let me mind sit down and think carefully how to get there. I’ve sat on a lot of benches (having taken a photograph of them) and still working our the best way to get the most of me and in turn life.
I think I’m getting to the point now where I know that my writing won’t take me anywhere exciting. With the lack of interest / no feedback it’s a good job I just like to write for a hobby. I crave to write at any moment I can but usually tapping away on my phone making notes and ideas before expanding them. As long as I have the enthusiasm to write I will always do so.
I already have ideas for the next volume of work but I think I’ll take my time writing it with getting more satisfaction out of writing than publishing it to the world.
After a brief walk the other day where I took the photographs above I wrote this poem below. It is about people crossing paths in the same place but not at the same time. How we live in a small world yet sometimes people see the same views but not together.
It is this weeks poem of the week and as fresh as a poem can be from being written.
Poem of the Week:
Trodden upon the hill
Silent and still
If the hills could speak
They’d call out
To say s/he was here
Walking the same footsteps
Just the other day
And they lay beneath the steps
That you have just walked
Looking out from where you stood now
They too stood right here
Seeing the same view
(Albeit in a different light)
But the same fields for miles
The same path walked for both minds
Two hearts crossed paths
But on different days and different times
The two hearts did beat in the same place
Just not at the same time
Or together side by side
With the wind wailing
I can’t hear the hills speak out
About the silent footsteps
Therefore onwards I walk
And with no trace of any footsteps
I never knew that you were here
How close two hearts can be
Yet are so very far away
With only with the same view
To savour and dream
In front of the eyes
Of the two separate hearts
That walk the same path
Upon the same hill
Both walked the path
Leaving silent footsteps
For the hill to remember
In silence and stillness.