The dazzling, dreaming darkness falls.

Eight o’clock– and the sun’s still glowing
Eight o’clock – of a  colour bright day,
Up above, pink-tinged clouds are sliding
Down still sky, sweeping sun away.

Come back sweet sun, do not leave us.
Come back bright beams,I need sunlight
Down on earth, it’s witch moon darkness,
When your face is out of sight.

I see the  coloured clouds extending
I feel the  sense of sky lit bright.
But gently now, the mist surrounds you
And sweeps away that happy sight.

Into velvet blackness sinking,
The dazzling, dreaming darkness falls.
Goodbye to haste,and glare, and sunshine,
Time for reverie,night time calls.

On the night-train’s gentle journeys,
On this  trackless train we ride
Strange visions and haunting pictures
We will see in dreams’ designs.

In my night train,I’ll be happy
In such rich deep reverie.
We visit darkness in our sleeping,
There we learn its ecstasy.

Now we may have no God to hold us,
In His Hands of Living Love,
What will help us trust deep blackness
If there’s no Saviour from above?

Must we enter that great darkness,
Go back to dark from which we came,
Into dark all living creatures,
In that darkness find our home?

Trust the dark unknown, to hold us,
Trust the dark,both night and day.
Must we walk into that darkness
Trust it is our safest way?

An old garden

Red-Admiral-2020-1

It reminds me of an East Anglian landscape.
This garden’s flat planes of grass give the illusion
Of greater distance,the eye travels down them To the trees rising at the end.
On this scene my mind superimposes
Other ideas of summer days in hot places
In flat fields stretching on either
Side down to the sea.
My eye enjoys the shape,the flatness
The form,a symbol for so many other gardens
And summer journeys on unknown lanes
Across new landscapes ,delighting in them,
In the space extending,and the trees

A gentle contradiction to the horizontal meadows.
In summer in recent years,
what I remember Is the sun across these long,flat shapes.

Looking at this small garden,
I remember So many things,
my eye sees through

What is here,to far beyond
What has passed and what is to come
All contained here.

Waxy flowers in the snow

Waxy flowers poking through
Snow so white
Flowers bright.
Made me think of you.

I see once more your just washed hair,
Soft as snow,
On pillow.
Now my bed is bleak and bare

,
Face alight,flower to sun,
I loved you.
Love so true.
Fear by love,overcome.

Cyclamen in the snow,
Pink and red,
Now frozen,dead.
Love was,oh,so long ago.

But never gone from in my mind.
Thoughts so deep,
Upwards seep.
Love was gentle,love was kind,

Always in my mind

Oh, gentle Light

I ‘ll try to get it right just one more time
You did not converse with me in words
You were simply present with your Light

Nowhere did I feel your power and might
You were no eagle, but a little bird
I ‘ll try to get it right just one more time.pp

Who made our language with its subtle rhymes?
The ancient people had their well trained Scribes
You were always there,oh gentle Light

You gave me warmth, you changed my too fixed sight
A comforter , a Spirit, how describe?
I ‘ll try to get it right a final time.

The agony inside me lost its bitep
I wanted to go on, to be alive
You do not always show your golden Light

We do not know when we at last arrive
We do not reach this meeting place by strife
I ‘ve tried to get it right this final time
I never saw such Gold until that night