The Apple Pond

The apple pond sits at the bottom of a field

circled by hedges and trees

its water gloomy and muddy and still

sprinkled with leaves and twigs

The apples mature

only to tumble into the pond one at a time

where they rest on the water rotting and fermenting

decade after decade

Spring has come early this year

helping the apples blossom

filling the air with the scent of sun and grass

painting the pond different shades, different hues


© Lawrence Estrey 2021

Poetry

Another Lockdown Recording

I spent a great deal of today involved in music. First, I practised the piano (Liszt 2 Concert Etudes, Schubert Wanderer Fantasy). Next, I compiled piano recordings I’d done during the various Lockdowns.

Finally, I converted six separate audio files to one single mp3 before adding a still image, to produce a video of my playing. The video lasts fourteen minutes and includes popular classical piano, Russian folk music, and Ragtime.

Happy listening!

Spring, And A Ragtime Number

I haven’t updated readers for a long time. I found parts of Lockdown a challenge, especially in regards to Mental Health, and preferred to hide behind my poetry. Having said that, I enjoyed Christmas and felt confident enough to welcome in the New Year in a limited but satisfying manner.

Spring has come at last. I had my first dose of the vaccine last week. I was meant to have it even earlier due to past bouts of pneumonia and septicaemia from Strep throat (years ago, admittedly), but there were some issues to resolve first. Suffice it to say, I’ve experienced flu-like symptoms this week, but am glad to have received the vaccine and will return in July for a second dose.


Meanwhile, I’ve spent hours practising the piano and polishing up repertoire during Lockdown, both Classical and Ragtime. Below is a video I made of the Ragtime Dance by Scott Joplin. I recorded the piano part this morning, then added it to a still photo from a few years ago.

Happy listening.

The Wanderer Fantasy

The man wanders year upon year

guided by blind hope

driven by restlessness

always seeking the unobtainable

hiding from the past

running from the images

escaping the torment, though in vain

never knowing where he will reach next.

ii.

Each place is a paradise at first

then restlessness strikes

tempting him with promises of greener grass

leading him in search of a new home

another empty desert where he will reside alone

the seasons pass

another year

the man wanders


© Lawrence Estrey 2021

Poetry

The Bridge Above The City

The old railway bridge sits halfway up a hill,
No longer a train track, but a nature walk,
Nestled in between houses and shops,
With a garage in the arches below.

From the bridge, one can see the city sights,
The office blocks in the distance,
Hills and marshland further on.
The palace to the left.

The sun sets over the city,
Painting the sky a myriad of colours.
Shades of light that ebb away as evening falls,
Another sunset over the city.


© Lawrence Estrey 2021

Poetry

Le Mal De Mer, A Ship At Sea

Chandeliers tilt in the ship’s dining room,
Like tiny jewels and clinking laughter.
The waves push from side to side,
A crescendo of force,
As cold as ice,
The cruel whims of the sea.

People stagger backwards and forwards,
Down corridors, up flights of steps,
Stumbling, feverish.
No one can walk straight.

The passengers grope around in semi darkness,
Hoping and praying not to fall.
Outside, the sky is empty and abandoned,
Save for the wind and rain and the clusters of clouds.


© Lawrence Estrey 2021

Poetry

The Dangerous Tide

a figure stands alone, leaning against the railing

the tide swirls around at the bottom of the pier, a dangerous turbulent colour

the figure continues to stand by the railings in the drizzle, staring blankly at the water


© Lawrence Estrey 2021

Poetry

Icy Rain

The rain. Vapour, splatter.
The temperature drops.
Icy rain.
Snow will come within a week.

A man stands alone at the bus stop, shivering.
Rain bounces off the pavement, splattering his shoes.
He is already late for work.

The rain is raw, lacking in mercy.


© Lawrence Estrey 2021

Poetry

The Power Cut

quarter past nine at night
an audio click
and then darkness

the display on the clock has vanished
no electricity
silence

torchlight and internet

despite the stillness the house breathes
a heartbeat barely noticeable
outside sounds come and go
ebbing away like the sea


© Lawrence Estrey 2021

Poetry


Theme: reliance on technology (in a wider sense, electricity included), and how humans cope when technology fails. I personally found the above experience lonely and unsettling.