Chris Auger

Poet, portrait artist, gardener, rambler, grandmother, I feel lucky to be living in a beautiful valley tucked away in the inspirational Cotswolds. I try to write poetry as often as I can, and publish it online.


Diary 2021

Let’s light a candle
To those who went before,
Who broke new ground,
Who thought they knew better,
Until they came to realise the wisdom
Of those who came before.

Let’s say a prayer
For those who’re yet to come,
Who’ll break new ground,
Who’ll think they know better,
Until they come to realise the wisdom
Of those who came before.

Samhain Chain © Chris Auger 2019


Calendar 2020

April mist transforms the valley

From lush green cattle-grazed slopes

To an opaque wall of grey-white smoke.

Brief muffled sounds pierce the hush

Then float gently upwards, seeking the sky.

In the foreground,

Winter-bare trees stand sentinel

Holding back the mist.

Haibun © Chris Auger 2018

Over the length of many back-breaking, sun-baked days,  the wild patch (infested with nettles, brambles,  and convulvulus) is lifted,  turned, searched for roots,  stones and ancient buried treasures, enriched with leaf mould, and placed in planters ready for sowing. Each tract of soil an encapsulation of potential, a promise for the future.

Dark, crumbly tilth sits
Waiting to bring forth new life
Holding itself ready.

Turning the soil © Chris Auger 2018


Calendar 2019

Weak winter-slanted sunlight
On a frosty November morning
Picks out each striped field furrow
Every humped grass hussock
Throwing elongated shadows across the ground
So that giant trees, cows, birds
Inhabit an uneven monochrome landscape
Like an image by Dali.

Chris Auger © Winter Sunlight