William Barton

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William Barton Poems


February fills dikes, overflows fields
and streams, turns paths to slippery ooze.
Petulant winds crease the surface of the lake
and agitate the fast flowing river.

I Wandered Lonely As A...Dandelion?

A plague on your daffodils, Mr Wordsworth.
Granted, daffodils look very fine - harbinger of spring and such,
But they just stand about admiring themselves
or head-tossing and fluttering in a freezing gale,

Name Carved On A Tree

This is the tree where you carved your name
at the junction of three woodland pathways,
hoping to be part of its long living.

The Way You Walk

Setting out in the morning,
Under a bright winter sky,
Sunshine filters through bare branches,
casting rich pools of golden light.

Wind Over Water

ind over water,
stream over stone.

Trees are shivering
in gusty cornfields
- green over liquid gold.

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