It’s mutual

Shimmering light
The lily pond
The music of your eye
The touch of your arm
Your always honey smell
.I love.
Rustling trees in a row,
A wide green lawn;
People stoop to see small flowers.
A snail on the path.
The perfecton of the shell.
I believe
Unusually tall dandelions at the edge of this wood
Wave in the warm west wind.
We smile.
Sitting pen in hand
I wonder what I would have written
In all the letters I’ve not sent you
.Far away on the Ridgeway,
Cars,seem small as ants,
Rush towards the motorway.
They make us laugh.
How green the meadows are
How fresh the old trees.
I gaze at you.
I find I am.
It’s mutual.
I thank you


It is not choosing wonders to behold
But it’s how we live wherever we are called
A moment with a golden buttercup
Is more to me than having gold on tap
How we listen well to little words
Not demanding it is our turn to be heard
For then we do not give and take for real
We are not concerned with how they feel
Yet can we do this purely by our will
Or are we given grace so our mind stills?
Wanting nothing we may gain much more
Simple if we find the open door

Outside the Lamb and Flag

Flung into the heights by a fast car
I had a feeling time had gone  too slow
I  fluttered like an unsmoked black cigar
No fear nor anguish  gave me any blow

As I flew I looked down at the earth
I saw a screen where Einstein turned the wheel
The world’s a film and this is a new birth
There are dimensions peril makes us feel

Them I turned geometric in my flight
I reached the apex, fell to earth like stone
A flash of golden stars entered my sight
I lay upon St Giles; it thrashed my bones.

What we see is not all that is here.
Where’s the Lamb who runs the pub revered

The rag and bone man

The rag and bone man gave us yellow stone
We mopped the doorsteps once day at least
Then we made them yellow for a time

The cleanliness was pride in our poor homes
It did not last, the ritual was a test
The rag and bone man gave us yellow stone

Men with muddy work shoes inwards roamed
The posh priest had good shoes of dirt divest
Still we made steps yellow for a time

We all used the hairbrush and one comb
The sideboard had a mirror,Satan’s feast
The rag and bone man gave us yellow stone

In the yard we had a privy, shame!
Then a coal shed where the cats all pissed
Then we made steps yellow half sublime

We had an air raid shelter, what a cost
Liverpool had blazed and people lost
The rag and bone man gave us yellow stone
So we made the steps clean, love comes home