Jill Hopkins

Heart weather

Polostoc Zawn and the Runnel stone buoy
Westerly gale eight, expected later.
A harbinger in boots and corduroy
Offers up a prayer to his Creator

Before dark, to reach his destination.
The bells of Paradise, he hears them ring
 For those in peril; he pleads salvation
 He crosses the ravine on weary wings

Soaking wet sludgy boots, ghostly aura
Sap his spirit, the would be pioneer.
Light in the distance, is it Porthgwarra?
Hope hastens his step and lessens his fear.

As passionate as Caravaggio’s art
There is a rough sea invading his heart

Jill Hopkins lives in the Peak District UK. She strums guitar in a small amateur band called ‘Crows Feet’. She is a grandmother and retired Social Worker. Music and Rhythm has always been a strong theme in her life and her poems have developed out of an affinity with the Cornish Coast, and a sense of fragility of the way things work, or don’t.