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Quatrain for Robin Hood

When Robin Hood hides in our wood
I shall not turn him out
I'll let his merry gentlemen
Hang all their bows about.

So when a swaggering M.P.
Comes riding by alone
The arrows of the hidden host
Will ring against the stones.

The horse rears up,the man looks round
To see what's caused the stir
And what he sees amidst the trees
Is green men everywhere

Let him complain to Sheriffs all.
The green men will be gone.
When soldiers come to hunt them out
They've vanished every one.

The forests of England are the home
Of rabbit,deer and game.
The green men live their natural life
And we should do the same.

let us all take to the greenwood life
And feel the strength of trees
They do not change at every poll,
Nor do just what they please.

In Nature all is linked to one
And one to all extends.
If we could change our cut throat ways
Maybe all could be friends.

The hearts and souls of all of us,
Form a great human wood.
So let the love we feel be shared,
And heard for the common good.

If everyone is given their place
Then Robin could go home
His men would not be in my wood,
And M.P.'s could safely roam.

Let us all sing,"Robin for King,"
"We all want Robin Hood."
"He took the money from the rich
To be spent for the common good.

Copyright © Katherine Braithwaite | 

A beam of light

A beam of light passed through my eyes
And showed to me a world disguised
So near,yet far,we do not see,
Unless by gift of grace redeemed.
That world is full of peace and calm
Its colors mingle,like a balm.
In such a moment all thought dies,
Revealing Love which underlies.
Colors caress my naked eyes.
Sunlight blesses new designs.
I stand enthralled,and do not wish
For one delight,other than this.
My breath slows down, and filled with joy,
I rove my eyes with bliss to toy.
Everything is just itself.
This is now my living wealth.
Beneath the noise of city traffic,
This mellow joy,love soporific,
This depth and peace, is always near
When we choose Love and turn from fear

Copyright © 

Love too great

Love too great can drown the one adored.
As if Jove sent  tsunami as a gift
Overwhelming all her personal choice.

Little offerings gentle and deserved
Will  not frighten either be too swift
Love too great can drown the one adored.

Speaking kindly as we find our  voice
Not shouting love, when we ought to desist
Overwhelming other’s personal choice.

At other  times a lover’s been devoured
By that selfishness, we’re not impressed
Love too great can drown the one adored.

God alone can speak in such a voice
By his truth, all other is expressed
Overwhelming, merciful and right

Eros, selfish, sacred, who resists?
Keep your love in bounds, may it be blessed
Love too great can drown the one adored.
Overwhelming all their personal, unique worth

Copyright © 

 

He whom once I loved

He whom once I loved I now do hate
His words and actions shared a harsh disdain
Refusing to allow this bitter fate
My boundaries now exclude his bleak terrain.
To win me, he displayed a tender care;
with courtesy and flattery he disarmed.
Then when my heart was opened up and bare.
he suddenly removed his wondrous charm.
His harshness ,rigid mind and steely heart
Showed him a terrorist in my own sweet lands;
For, suddenly, our love he broke apart
And empty was my once outstretched hand.
Beware of charm and love bestowed too soon
Or you may likewise suffer dread and doomCopyright 

And cultivate my hatred with my tears

Shall I give home to grievance and  to woe

And cultivate my hatred with my tears?

Shall I remember  carefully each blow,

And add this sorrow to my anxious fear?

 

I  thought by hating you I would have peace

And surely I had reason without doubt.

Yet  rumination  gave me no  release..

For wisdom and compassion it did flout

 

I remembered then  past love and  shared sweet words

I gave  them freedom in my anguished heart.

I did it for your sake, yet then occurred

A sweetness, joy and gladness in all parts.

 

To  forgive,repent and  let go of such grief

Helps us more than hatred’s legal brief

In my dreams he is alive again

The face that was familiar is no more
Yet in my dreams ,he is alive again
If ,by a chance, his life could be restored
It would affect me like the hidden chord
Which played, my   own life  force would   go.
That one must live and one must die is plain
The face that was familiar is no more.
Yet in my dreams ,he is alive again

Copyright © Katherine Braithwaite | 2015

She loved her adverb more than me

My wife has left me for an adverb.
I don't know which one it is!
Is it slowly,quickly, nearly?
Life should not be like a quiz.

She told me that she "nearly" loved me,
When "dearly" was what I had hoped.
Life is full of lost illusions...
How do we 'reaved lovers cope

I think I should have kept it secret,
For now I sit and sadly grieve.
Do you think my wife is cruel?
What a strange excuse to leave!

Would she leave me for a pronoun?
Would she leave for a full stop?
Would I leave you for a quote mark?
Would I fall down in a black dot?

Come back,darling for I love you.
I have learned I must take care.
I will go for grammar lessons.
I am sure I can learn flair!

We can write a poem together,
You can choose the topic,dear.
I will hold my pen and write for
They say true love drives out fear.

Did I fear her? Did I love her?
Was she worthy of my heart?
Did she dislike my hairy nostrils?
Was that why we had to part?

Come back Mary,come back Mavis.
Come back Sunny, come back Sue
Without my wife I feel so lonely.
What is a left man to do?

Shall I vote for love or money?
Shall I throw my self away?
Shall I get a new agenda?
Will a new life start today?

Come back Miriam,come back Sarah!
Where have all the women gone?
Come back Rivka with your grammar.
I can feed you a cheese scone.

I work hard and I can cook.
I put fresh linen on the bed.
I can pay my bills in full.
But without my Love,my heart is dead

 

Reverberations

Like a piece of ground where bombs go off repeatedly,
my inner landscape is perpetually marked
by these explosions of sorrow,
made all the worse
by the lack of a listening ear,
a warm open heart
or an outstrerched hand.

I have constructed a map
but it's incomplete,by its nature;
so even now,I might stumble into an old hole
or a new one,created
by reverberations underground;
the noise like distant music,
a  constant drumbeat.

We do not dance
I might call it the Liturgy of Loss,
a dance to the music of rhyme;
Patterns abd shapes hold the feelings
and express them.The shape of these forms
is a container for the grief.

In this way,I indicate
that life will go on;I hear the healing music
and sing to its melodies
like a mermaid on the edge of the sea in winter
when the water is cold and green like his eyes,
and the rocks are hard like large fists.

Nature can be a s ymbol for such emotion
we cannot walk without a tear in ech eye
and a softening of our hearts
as tenderly we touch the world
and are touched in turn by each other.

Stretch out your hand to meet mine.
We can hold each other better
than each can hold theirself.
Like in sex, the meaning is not the climax
but the giving and being given;
receiving and being received.
The sacredness of the erotic needs no explanation
to a gardener or a fisherman
but may need it for the information saturated,postmodern
who dwell in the fascist virtual reality
we call life on earth today

Copyright © Katherine Braithwaite | 

When life seems grey

When true love’s gone and doom hangs over head

When life runs like a river to the sea

Then shall I take new lovers to my bed?

And with their carnal touch consoled be?

When my love lies,so breaks my tender heart.

When life seems grey and rocks bestrew my path.

Then, shall I my life of evil start?

And on the world shall I bestow my wrath?

When true love lies and wrecks all loyalty.

When puzzlement makes all my world seem mad.

Then I shall upend causality

And let myself do deeds which make me glad.

For I have love’s sweet child inside my soul

And I shall tend her till at last she’s whole

 

Watercolor love

Like watercolor pictures left out in the rain
Our colors have mingled,yet the originals still remain.
Two watercolor paintings without frames,
Became one picture over time,
Yet two of us still there.
Our colors blended naturally,
Now all the hues are shared.
I love your colors intermixed with mine:
Together they have made a new design.
A Watercolor picture painted by the rain,
We may go, but our Watercolor Love will still remain

Copyright 

 

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