
I wish I were an apple
and you were eating me
I’d like to make you happy
As you sat by this tree.
I wish I were a blackbird
So I could sing for you.
I’d like to make you cheerful
And stop you feeling blue.
I wish I were the sun
So I cold warm your frozen heart.
And then your heart would melt for me
And you would be less tart.
I wish I were the moon
so I could protect you all night long.
But being only me may I
Present you with this song?
Day: September 27, 2013
Autumn arrives
I take pleasure seeing leaves turn red.
On trees from whose rich fruit we’re fed.
My apples dropped to mossy lawn,
My plums purpled from sun late born.
Stand still, then listen in the woods.
Hear the sounds of dreaming doves.
Shelter, quiet,by oak and elm,
And find your self in woodland’s realm.
Gaze at clouds through branches high.
See red leaves light up pale sky.
The sun is angled now so low,
The trees their longer shadows show.
In what,at first,seemed silence clear
The chirps of birds, who know no fear
Are gathered to our open ears.
I’d like to live as do wild flowers.
Though life may last but one hour.
An hour of complete submission to
The bliss of love and sun and you.
A moment can be a life time too.
In joy, our love of life’s renewed.
Time stretches out in sweet embrace,
For us who live in earth’s dear space.
Joy will return one day
And then we feel lonely too;
Or we cause rifts.Some days are doldrum days.
Some days are like bad plays.
Not such a gift.Most days have joyful parts.
Most days we lift our hearts.
They pass all too swift.
Some days love speaks to me.
Some days I feel so free.
I love my craft.
Life is a patterned weave.
Love helps us when we grieve.
Love is a raft.
See how the sun comes back.
See how light fills the gaps..
Some days we laugh.
Weep now and I’ll weep with you.
I have known sorrow too.
Yet sorrow will pass.
Joy is not far away.
Joy will return one day….
L With life’s arts and crafts
Being alive
Being alive is joyful
Who has never felt grief
When a small gesture would have helped
but it has, unknowingly, been with held?
How many people have the imagination
to guess what’s in your mind,
And to embrace you rather than push you away?
No-one, No-one.No-one knows.
No-one knows these numbers.
No-one knows these names.
No-one knows how many feel diffident,
Nor how many feel shame.
Being alive is joyful!
Being alive is pain!
Being alive is all we have,
We’ll never be alive again.
I look into your eyes today
I sense your pain and woe.
I look into your eyes just now
And tell you that I know,
Being alive is lonely.
Being alive is good.
Being alive is pain indeed
For flesh is not like wood


