Day: September 12, 2019

The heather

After marriage we went to the North
Putting down our roots by others’ hearths.
We roamed  the hills and dales and lay down too
The heather is as warm as  it is purple blue
All the world dwelt  on the Cleveland hills
Where bees blossom, where the heart is thrilled
In the distance from the A19
We saw the sun set  in a flush and dream
His father died and now we had to go
With  mother’s home made bread  with well proved dough
With heather honey and a cake  with jam
Sandwiches well filled and not by Spam
Across the Valley of the  widening Tees
The hills stood out  like  faces in the breeze
The shape affects  the heart  as prophets knew
The landscape is well known,oh honeydew

From outside

I looked into my window from outside
The books were piled on  shelves in random ways
I thought I’d see  him  there though he has died

In the past I lost another , life denied
I had to carry on, to grief was prey
I looked into my window from outside

My pain was such, I  felt that I might die
The shrapnel  in the heart, the guilt unpaid
I dreamed I’d see  him  there though he has died

The  fiery bush ,its flames have caught my eye
It burns forever  showing us the way
I looked into a  window from outside

I used to live  behind a glass, no bride.
Yet  the vital work was  learned in play
I wished to see  him  there though he has died

Now three are  gone  am I supposed to pray?
The  jackets tweed, the smell of smoke and clay
I looked into my window from outside
I thought I’d  find someone with the right eyes.

How can the world be here,yet he is not?

How can the world be here,yet he is not
But in that other  country  he must dwell
Is that heaven or some unused old lot?
How can the world be here,yet he is not?
Can it be his wife he has forgot?
He left me lone, a bird caught in a net
What truth is there and which of us can tell?
How can the world be here,yet he is not?
In  that other country  now he dwells.

 

Yet if the natural law they will assault

Must friendship close our eyes to other’s faults
Or see then with a sweet and tactful eye?
On the door within  must we place  bolts?

Can we trust our instinct or revolt?
Who can tell if one of us has lied
Must friendship close our eyes to other’s faults?

Yet if our human values they assault
The warmth inside our heart like love is fey
On its door within  must we place  bolts?

Chamberlain met Hitler  like a dolt
The Czecho-slovak state he’d occupy
Desire may  blind  our mind to others’ faults.

Into Warsaw came the Nazi boots
The Ghetto  where the Jews stood up and died
On  our memory’s door  must we place  bolts?

Did Stalin have a friend and if so why?
Hitler had a woman by his side
Must “friendship ” close our eyes to other’s faults
On the door within  must we place  bolts?