The chosen words invented as we loved

Those little words invented as we loved
Now have no other speaker but myself.
Lost, unique, the man so well beloved,
Those little words called out from our sweet love-
In my own speech, these words no longer live
I cannot use our words, that loving wealth.
The chosen words invented as we loved
Now have no other listener but myself.

Sunlight at Easter

The Easter sun came through the rich stained glass

A little child illuminated passed.

The shining floor below the roof above

The glowing light a symbol of deep love

At this moment normal time had gone

Absorbed into the mysteries of the sun.

Then the child ran off, a cloud came by

Eternity has passed with just a sigh

Oh, gentle Light

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

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 bite
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

Once I cared for people who were old

Once I cared for people who were old
Who wet themselves and felt the winter cold
I gave them baths and washed their backs and fronts
Helped them to get dressed and zip their pants

I made them pots of tea and gave them cake
I gave them dinner on a china plate
I listened to their stories of the past
An unknown world of war and terrors vast

And if they cried I’d wipe away their tears
Talk to them till sorrow disappeared
I’d do the washing up and clean the knives
The women missed their being someone’s wife

Now I am old and I have realised
I really had no feel for what it’s like.

A wild bird’s cry

October 28, 2019
Walking on the long white shore with you
The perfect sands, the sky and sea so blue
The rippling waves made patterns on our shoes
Oh,come back,sweetheart ,I can’t bear your loss

The church at Old Hunstanton has a pond
Ducks and geese were waiting for more food
The silence was enormous, like the sky
Interrupted by a wild bird’s cry

At Brancaster we nearly met our deaths
Cut off by a wave behind our backs
Young and green ,we knew no panic then
But now I feel it as I walk alone

Without my anchor I may float away
A little speck of dust in that wide bay