VENUS ON DARTMOOR Wendy Webb
Where winding sheet of sky dips, brushing earth,
there watercolours freshen into rain.
Paternosters sponge the canvas, dripping
ambrosia’s clotted cream of grazing sheep.
The raging hills and valleys of the tide
rock seasick glory to the stomach’s churn.
Angels moonshine up to Jacob’s Ladder
of Venus bending in a cockle shell
of rimming golden curls beyond dull sight.
Seraphic scallops arc to nacred palette
of cloudburst spuming hammers back to blue
in black and white of anvil sheathed to green.
The mast rolls in to steeping graveside slope,
to bow a heron fishing at the last.