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Harvest at Morwenstowe<\/strong><\/p>\n All must be safely gathered in.\u00a0 As the villagers Down the cliff path, lurid in the leering, At this outpost of the eternal, no-one Of the storm, the mortal flotsam, cradled He reads, \u2018bringeth forth fruit of herself.\u2019 By the blackbird, who cocks her tail <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Elaine Ewart<\/strong> was the inaugural Fenland Poet Laureate in 2012.\u00a0 She has been published in Friction<\/em> magazine and recently edited and self-published a nature poetry anthology, Words for Wide Skies<\/em>, available from WWT Welney<\/a>\u00a0 and blogs at flightfeather.wordpress.com<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Harvest at Morwenstowe All must be safely gathered in.\u00a0 As the villagers Push shut their buffeted doors, their vicar, Flapping, motley in primrose and purple, zig-zags Down the cliff path, lurid in the leering, False light that jags between the roiling Slate-clouds and the slant-edged rocks. At this outpost of the eternal, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5633","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5633","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5633"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5633\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5636,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5633\/revisions\/5636"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5633"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5633"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5633"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nPush shut their buffeted doors, their vicar,
\nFlapping, motley in primrose and purple, zig-zags<\/p>\n
\nFalse light that jags between the roiling
\nSlate-clouds and the slant-edged rocks.<\/p>\n
\nIs given up for lost.\u00a0 The sky clears; the bell
\nIs rung on the hill top; and the gleanings<\/p>\n
\nAnd folded, is sown in the fresh furrow
\nBeside the church.\u00a0 \u2018For the earth,\u2019<\/p>\n
\nAt dusk, he is seen through the vicarage
\nWindow, writing letters of condolence,<\/p>\n
\nIn the hedge, splashing the undergrowth
\nA warm maroon; and tears through the brambles.<\/p>\n