Tuesday, 26 May 2009


Ancient ruins is where the scenario began.
Quite some time has lapsed since there was
any significant sign of life here, any
conversation of worth.
A stump of a church, constructed by hand,
by small people for small people, is all
that remains, although there are further
remains under foot.
Mackenzies and Frasers, laid out side by
side, like grey paving slabs, or perhaps
they are just a reflection of the tomb-
stones, that i take an age dechiphering,
reasons for which, there are none.
Clan warfare, would be what left them
all here, closer in casket than in breath.
Infamous until prematurely slain, maybe
by their now permanent neighbours.
And then a song is heard, a peircingly
cute melody, a song to erase any aging
A perfect interception by a solo Chaffinch,
A rainbow of life, vibrating on a still
attached twig.
Is he serenading me or calling a lover,
searching for company in a remote highland
A photoshop moment, reality strikes a chord,
life and death together as one, fishing
for attention, and both winning their own
individual battles as always.
The Chaffinch now demands fully, all
concentration, as there would appear to
exist a second songster, where is yet
to be seen.
It sounds like an echo, but can that
be possible ?
The church is hollow ( in many ways ),
and incapable of a sound rebound.
There must be a solution, and indeed
it soon becomes apparent, that the
answer lies in an apple!
A very modern apple, no core or shiny
red skin to this particular fruit, not
born to any known tree of nature, but
man made in a factory, an institution
of today`s society, familiar to both
you and me.
An apple I-phone is what has stirred
the feathers of Mr Chaffinch, releasing
tunes from his harmonious throat.
It`s set to I-tunes and is playing a
birdsong cd, as it lays alone under
a hedge, and then i see my Uncle,
sitting on a wall nearby, his smile
as wide as a Loch, as he stares up
into the tree.


  1. love it, takes me right back to that beautiful day, we must go again

  2. OK first of all there is nothing about this poem that is wrong. The thing that I have an opinion about is that you may be losing a brilliant poem -even though this one is an excellent poem! From the first stanza to and including the fifth stanza, was a picture painted beautifully. Breathtaking!! I know the poem is called Modern Nature- so this is where it is really just my opinion- when you get to the sixth stanza, the word photoshop I found very jarring. I was out of my beautiful picture and back to reality. It left me feeling disappointed. After that there is a lot of beautiful language but again the modern words take away from the painted picture that I saw. I can only say if you want this poem to be Modern Nature then there is nothing wrong with it at all however if you want to take me as the reader to a beautiful place the modern words pulled me quickly out of the images you had put into my mind. Just my opinion and I am an amateur writer at best-but as your reader- those are my thoughts. (starlingpoet)


    Your comments are superb, you have read it exactly as was intended, i was in that painted picture and it was taken from me, like somebody logging on to photoshop, with a picture of a Chaffinch singing, that is eaxactly what happened, and why the poem had to be written how it is.
    any other way and the passion store would have lost its effect, and indeed your comments have enhanced them evem more so.

    Kindest regards..TSP