Haeddre 29/7/2016


It is fine to be in balance, to hear wistful
cries like invisible veins in the winds,
to see lucky white strands among
the heather’s Scottish highlands type
of sobbing and to listen as the wind speaks
in gusts; inhaling deeply as if sucking
up a thought before breathing it out
smoothly in a musical phrase.

Our giggles are swept away instantly
as we try to stand with pale, bare,
chicken legs; goose pimples and heads
lift deliberately so that we may
be bludgeoned by the wind – our cheeks
are malleable like Playdoh as we turn
to face the brave. Lana’s spectacles
are nudged from their cosy space; nudged
all the while with nary a murmur or complaint
right up until she would trip – her straight
edged, rimmed nose would turn red
underneath freckles that are faint traces
of sunlit birds across a pale expanse
of water rippling.

We chat to silver grey, wise, stone heads
happily serenaded by loose petals and grass
quills that are a cosy squire collar for the rugged,
Celtic boulders we sit on. Our nimble fingers
grazed with youth pull dandelions from the roots
amid awkward silences – our actions solicit
a cheeky shrug because we like to hear
them tear – it is a validation of their freedom
from the tough soil as they relinquish
mystery and ghostly Celtic charm,
which is the flesh of the sturdy hillsides
that creep up to all but touch blue zircon sky.

Craggy tutus tentatively hold large birds
that once settled will disappear
into trances; filtering the world as it sails
by the bewitched and twisting heads
of the Little Owl sleeping while hawks
pierce our eardrums as we fight on, tumbling –
in a race to be the first to conquer this hillside.
We brazenly slide down part way; rough
and ready vanquishers of these grassy mosses
aching from its boulders – our bruises
become the glorious, purple heather down
of our flesh – an indelible tattoo of these glens
already strewn with magical, inked

Exhausted high jinks and chattering
laughter are heightened by stiffening
cold bones – windstorms activate
the grasses motivated by our tomfoolery.
Atop the hill we are puffed, exhausted
and we heave breathless for a while.
Our pigeon chests make us feel like king
and queen, but crinkled noses redefine
our stature and we settle for duke
and duchess given our ragamuffin
elbows and dirty knees, proudly assembled
as witnesses.

I kiss my Haeddre, Duchess of Green
Flowers and the White Heather – night giver
to the moon – and I take her slender wrist
until we sit cross legged on nested fauna
and we are draped in the dying sun’s finery;
our shoulders’ shadow becomes a black cloak
glinting regal charm, and her crown is scattered
sun drops escaping the last squeeze of citrus;
they caress her head, anointing it,
just as surging, billowing clouds bid the day
farewell. Gusty breaths deepen around our hilltop
and dozing birds grip their stake with talons
on point and ready.

The common buzzard circles in the subdued
hints of autumn’s orange skies, and sounds
of the playful Little Owl sing out.
As our red hands and cold, white knuckles
sit together over our dirty knees, I feel
her pigtails shudder on her shoulders
when I catch her staring at me staring
with eyes full – made moist by the wind.
Aye, It is fine to be aware and look down
on our blustery kingdom’s fine swathe.

*haeddre is thought to be the ancient origin of heather/Heather.


The Daily Post Prompt wind


Author: Anita Lubesh

I write poetry/prose/stories/short stories/verses for children/sketch/and have 6 chapters of a novel sitting there like that half eaten trifle in the fridge or bottle of Jack Daniels because something makes you afraid to eat it or drink... right now.. I am a proud Geordie from England's northern hemisphere and the beautiful city of Newcastle upon Tyne. I live with my lovely husband who came all the way from sunny California just for me, and my favourite animal, Bobble, our dog. I am a member of Greenpeace and Friends of the Earth and wish we could all do more, especially today, when such a lot is wrong.

51 thoughts on “Haeddre 29/7/2016”

  1. OMG! Really where to begin? The photo -so stunning clear and splendid. The words, your words -your words are always so compelling, astonishing. You know how to catch your reader(s)’ attention. And to feel, be transported to another place and time with your writing -extraordinary. I thought truly that I was reading some romantic English, Scottish tale from my old school days. 😉

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you, Tammy. I started listening to a piece on your playlist, (yes I can do this I thought. I often write to music but hadn’t for a while since infra red filter., and life etc stopped me for a while. But this piece Tangisan Biola -the violin was great made me think of Scotland, then everything and it was meant to be short as I typed then I kept going. Thank you too for you very kind praise.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Oh yes, that song is magnificent. I do a little too much writing to music but when I need to process or find inspiration that is one way for me. I’m so glad you were inspired too Anita, and that the writing took you over. An amazing piece, among many, you have. I could not be happier for you in the spurs of writing. 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Hi Anita,

    How wonderful it is to throw ourselves open to the mysteries and magic of nature. Your gorgeously atmospheric and liberating poem ‘Haeddre’ has given me a brief calming pause as I prepare for my first book launch this week.

    I see you’re a Geordie, by the way. I knew the late great children’s writer Robert Westall, originally from Tyneside, in the latter 80s. Such a great guy. Such a great writer. His Carnegie Medal winning novels, ‘The Machine Gunners and ‘The Scarecrows’, must surely rank as modern YA classics. Maybe you’re a fan too?

    My very best,


    Liked by 1 person

    1. I am quite a savage in terms of who is who but that name rings a bell and I will look those books up. Thank you for reading my work though and above all else enjoying it. Good luck with your book launch, it must be exciting. I am slowly, after all these years working up to the same after I build more of a lit CV. I have had some success this month with poems accepted in magazines and my story came out today in Fiction magazine…all a start to that goal. I can be a tad lazy but, enough is enough lol. Again thank you and good luck!

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I read your profile. I appreciate what you are doing regarding raise money for breast cancer cost. I’m a cancer survivor myself. I took a two-year break from blogging, and just came back. I just clicked follow. If you like, you could follow mine also. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for the follow. I am lucky here in the UK where we are looked after by our fantastic health care system, and the fundraising I do goes to charities that can provide as an adjunct to that and raise money extra money for research and appointments and accelerate the discovery of cures.
      I am a survivor of 15 years now, and I wish you well on your continued journey, each of ours is different so I wont give false praise and patronising anecdotes – except enjoy your life and things that matter around you. And it will be nice to keep connected, so yes I will gladly follow you.

      Take care.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. This is my 7th year in remission. Other than lymphedema, I am doing okay. I have to wear compression stockings everyday, exercise, and my husband massage my legs every night. I have a childhood friend living in London. I visited her when we went on a Europe tour. We arrived 5 days earlier than the tour, she and her husband took us around. It was very nice. My husband lived in London from 10 to 12 years old. We went to visit the house he lived in, and the school he went to. I took a picture showing the two gates for boys and girls go in separately 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

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