At the darkest time of the year
What joy to find you perching here
Upon the bare and sleeping oak
A merry song, a shim’ring cloak
To warm me in the harsh steel-grey
Of winter’s night and winter’s day
I’ll go with lighter step and mind
And leave my heaviness behind.
What a pleasure to hear your song
Up in the trees all winter long
-Essie Parker Walsh
The Price Of Detachment.
The way is thick with a silvery haze,
And rich with winter’s fruit.
A fleece of moss hugs tight
The feet of our elders,
Who stand regal in crownless slumber.
A single loyal Robin on his guard.
An affection of rain
Kisses gently every exposed feature,
Promising new life.
Steady is the rhythm
Of this still breathing wood,
It moves with intention.
Not a thing is wasted,
Even decay is nectar.
Hours bead like water
On Wild Garlic shoots,
They pool about the stems,
And the day draws itself out before me.
The estranged march past it,
Severed and unseeing.
Time to them is but a number
That slips away.
They take no notice of the symphony
Of the gentle wild
That inspires me.
That devours me.
That devastates me.
– Essie Parker Walsh
That Certain Familiarity.
There’s a growing darkness about the place.
We’ve been here before.
A sense of doom brought only by war.
Every morning when the sun rises,
It brings with it a murmur.
A constant trickle of whispers
That have bled through
Hundreds of years of stone cold humanity.
We’ve been here before.
Lest we forget.
Filter it through the privileged
That ran from their past
And hid
Their wealth
Behind pages of The Daily Mail.
The privileged that tell you
That your neighbours are your enemies.
“Britain for the British.”
The king will declare civil war
Before he’ll ever tell you to look up.
We have been
Here
Before.
A warning that falls on
Brutish ears.
They can’t hear
From The Sun in their ear.
They can’t see
From the flag
That’s being dangled before them,
Hung at half mast
From every lamp post.
We.
Have been.
Here.
Before.
This country will crumble if left to
The right people.
We have been here before.
– Essie Parker Walsh
Charms.
I don’t have good luck charms,
I have remember charms.
As in,
Remember you have to drink water.
Remember to feed yourself more than once a day.
Remember you’re valid.
Those kind of charms.
Remember you’re a person.
Remember you’re human.
Remember you can start again as many times as it takes to be happy.
Remember your whimsy.
Remember what you’ve created.
Remember when you were so happy you thought “Yeah I’d be my friend”.
Remember what Ev said?
Remember to fight your nightmares,
Remember logic when you’re lost,
Remember your therapist said this was fine.
Remember on your darkest nights your reality is just a twisted shadow of what sits there in the light.
Remember the voices lie.
Remember if you go Curtis goes too.
Remember the pin wheel isn’t spinning anymore.
Remember when your friend talked the life back into you?
Remember?
Remember you love that you love so much.
Remember your way to Dream.
Remember this is your house, you’re safe to make as many mistakes as you want in the comfort of your own company.
Remember how you learned to say no.
Remember you are worth all of your time.
I’m wearing so many charms that I ring when I walk.
I’m wearing so many charms that I sing when I talk.
There are whole discussions under my eyes,
Remember?
I wear my past,
My present,
And my future around my neck
In case I forget
To live where I am,
And not too much in my head.
But remember that’s where you get the best ideas.
So remember always one foot in the clouds.
Remember the spyglass you keep by your side, because little you wants to look too.
Remember little you is proud.
Remember you are who little you needs.
Remember you’re living for both of us.
– Essie Parker Walsh
Down The Unseen Roads.
Down the unseen roads I run,
When blushing sky and setting sun,
From under wave to The Land Undone,
Where long the iron bells have rung.
Down the unseen roads I run.
– Essie Parker Walsh
Away.
I awake this morning,
Far into spring,
To see that in
The softest light of day,
You have danced
Without worry
Upon the creeping mosses of my garden.
Danced,
As some Good Folk do,
Leaving the gentle wild in your wake.
The dandelions about my feet
Hold tenderly this golden hour.
Each of them a wonder
All its own.
How my home
Does now glitter with it.
I stare into their brilliance
And see upon the rays
A gentle hope.
Without worry.
They whisper in sunlight
And it is dazzling.
They sing to me stories
Of so fantastic a place,
That I,
Enraptured,
Can do naught but willingly go.
– Essie Parker Walsh
April Showers.
Spring celebrates itself each April,
And each April,
I amble through this spectacle of new life in awe of it’s daring.
A cool wind blows the delicate pink blossoms from the trees.
It carries on the breeze,
And skips down the road.
From the bridge it rains down into the river,
And dances atop the surface of a new world.
The gentle chaos of spring seeps into my skin
And I could weep at my own strength in this moment.
– Essie Parker Walsh
A Promise Always Kept.
The sun was today a god of old
Painted in light and singing of good harvest.
He tore across the sky in his chariot,
The end of winter grasping at the harmony of his rays.
A pursuit eternal.
Winter falls behind today,
And so I shall join the chorus.
– Essie Parker Walsh
Would You Like That?
Imagine for a moment that
We were all the same.
Billions of lives repeating,
What knowledge would you gain?
– Essie Parker Walsh
The Autumn Chorus.
Undress yourself.
Shed your millions
About mine.
Let your melody
Of red and gold
Fall gracefully
From your embrace.
I’ll sing your song
As we step together
For one final dance.
Now repose,
And paint yourself eternal.
– Essie Parker Walsh
Essie P.W 