That day


I wish there were no numbers and no dates
I forget them all , yet memory is like glue
With counting, with remembrance, with lost mate

There’s our sorrow and its seas to navigate
The waves rise up and drop, so old so new
I wish there were no numbers and no dates

Why are modern hearts so separate?
The seas of knowledge, all are one in truth
With counting, with remembrance, with no trace

Oh,universe, why do you have such space
With patterns in the stars, that might us soothe
If there were no numbers and no dates?

Why are we self labelled as a race?
Slowly, surely we will dig up truths
With anguish, with remembrance, oh, lost face

When will grace remake a soul so bruised
Struggling with the time scale, still bemused
I wish there were no numbers and no dates
No counting, no remembrance, no lost face

Creative space

Oh happy were we crossing Salisbury plain

On the way to Dorset once again

The isle of Purbeck, butterflies and birds

he lark near Swanage waiting to be heard.

Once the plain was home to peace

and sheep

The Cold War brought the Army and their shells.

Now there’s War again,a thought to mull.

Do men want peace when War is all the rage?

Look on Facebook,Mr Putin’s page.

One cruel man kills children in the streets.

There is no warfield,like there are no sheep.

There is no safety now for

Ukraine’s least.

As Russia plays with evil and the Beast

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I have sifted earth

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I have  walked the  silent paths of grief
Sunless,dreary,cold and all alone.
I have   slept on bed of  winter leaves.
Oh Death you are a cruel and devious thief.
Although my heart sa sand my joy has gone.
I have never felt I was deceived.

I have learned that human life is brief.
I have learned  by sorrow we’re undone.
I  have sifted earth and what’s beneath.

I felt  the dark emotions in me seethe
 I've  been cruelly mocked by   glaring sun.
I  have grasped the geography of grief.

I wait in silence for this  life to cease
Or will  a  fluttering wing  make chaos come,
Change my heart and give me a fresh lease?

Unconsoled  grief  can make   us dumb
Into  our  hearts, we drag the ice  that numbs
I have walked the silent paths of grief
I have made my bed on winter leaves.

I have learned the geography of grief.

I have walked the silent paths of grief
Sunless, dreary, cold and all alone.
I have slept on beds of winter leaves

Oh death you are a cruel, mysterious thief.
Although my heart weeps, and my joy has gone,
I have never felt I was deceived.

I have learned that human life is brief.
I have learned by sorrow we’re undone.
I have sifted earth and what’s beneath.

I have felt the dark emotions seethe
While I’m mocked by glaring, savage sun.
I have learned the geography of grief.

I wait in patience for my life to ease.
Will I know when my Last Supper’s come?
Will my tale be written on a leaf?

Unconsoled grief can make us dumb
Into our hearts, we drag the ice that numbs
I have walked the silent paths of grief
I have made my bed on winter leaves