Cliff Walk by the Officers’ Mess, Episkopi
I sit and watch the sunset warm the sea
Turn clouds golden and haze each cliff and hill
I hear grey doves call and I see a hooded crow,
But the griffon vulture is evasive still.
I am an early knight and this is now my quest
To spot the bird so heraldically named.
Instead blackbirds sing, their golden notes expressed,
Sparrows twitter, and the evening is claimed
For smaller fry, among them me, spring visitor,
Bringing English meanings to what I see
As we have always brought to southern shores,
The isles of Greece and the wine-dark sea.
I’m ready now for my long journey home,
And those migrations that are yet to come.
The Drive To Ay Nik Primary School
The fields are full of mist and new flowers,
Mandarins glow like lamps on bushy trees
These early mornings are glorious hours
Of Cyprus time; I imagine I hear bees
Buzzing the sound of spring to me.
The swifts have come back, they weave and dip
And look, the blueness of the distant sea,
I hold the moment, freeze-frame, lest it slip,
The monastery that has claimed the hill,
The silver sparrows and their humble darts,
The pine processionary moths who still
Are webbed in nests like cloudy hearts.
And with window down as we lightly pass
I smell bruised marjoram, the vivid grass.
Copyright James Nash 2018