How like a monster is my fear of pain
Expanding to fill all my heart and mind
Swelling like a  giant sponge   in the rain,
This fear begets  new  feelings more unkind.

For humans being chased by lions fierce,
Fear gives us the strength to  dash away.
But when by inner turmoil we are pierced
We cannot run  yet need  not be its prey.

Most strange ,we need to do   what we most fear;
Walk towards the pain with curious calm.
As else we may be maddened like King Lear
With no Cordelia to bring us balm.

To  feel in proper ratio to our   pain.
We need perception,grace and all their gains.

Despite the season, we have gales and  rain,
When May  blossom and buttercups each bloom
I feel regret for Spring is on the wane
The summer’s short and autumn comes too soon.

Expectations block our  outer view.
We miss  brief moments when the sun breaks through
And makes the whole world glorious anew.
With laughter, leaves and flowers our souls imbue.

Let’s look again, with  eye blind to desire.
A shady day has still a pleasant feel
The air is scented and senses   still are fired.
Thus, from the darkness ,let’s a pleasure steal

The grass is green and flowers assert  allure
Even in the gale ,we find our cure

To be both fair and wise is not a  match
For men will want my beauty and my touch
But if at this they unthinking  snatch
They may find out my mind is rather much.

And if I read a book whilst they caress
It seems a cruel action for a bride.
More, if I inside out did wear my dress
It may wound  sore and injure husband’s pride.

I tease ,for I would never read in bed
If someone shared my cosy little nest
No,I’d go into the lavatory instead.
And practise for my next Su Doku  test

For all problems are solvable with time.
Fight,fight against the dying of the rhyme.

I wrote this exactly one year ago.

As on this foreign shore I stand and stare
Across the green and foaming tidal sea.
I do not wonder whether life is fair
Nor whether what’s to come is what should be.

Ah,did you throw away the  ripened fruit
Because inside it hid a hardened stone?
As anything not total does not suit
Love’s ambivalence seems to you a crime

Don’t throw away my love when I  offend
For I am human too and lose my sense
As tension makes it difficult to bend
And sometimes even love is too intense.

Rather , see how much love there still may be
And balance that against my human faults
Instead ,one mark ,one sin  one thought unfree
Weighs more than years of love ,binds me in guilt.

As panic  will grow less when we just wait
In such a way , real love can contain hate.

If I  should cease to love you when you die
And quickly fill your space with a new man
Then perhaps my  claiming love was  but a lie
And I can fill  you place  with anyone.

Are not our  friends unique and therefore lost
When death pulls them away to darker shores?
Yet we  will love each one despite the cost.
And when we weep,  is this not  what life’s for?

Loss and gain and loss and gain again
A pattern from the infant to the sage
So joy and pain and joy and pain remain.
Who knows what is inscribed on the page?

To feel,to suffer, then feel joy once more
Will open up  the Heavens’ golden door

Ancient I may be, but I’m not old
I learn new skills and  see in different ways
My heart is kind and never is  it cold
My mind still functions and I’ve much to say

But company is difficult to find
Especially for those handicapped by pain
We all need others outside our own minds
Though loss has struck we look for friends again

I’d like to roam across  the woods and   hills
A gypsy free of home and bills and rules
But in the climate of the British isles
I’d soon be sick and labelled as a fool.

Let’s not accept too many laws of age
As Dylan said, against that we should rage

,

Shall I give home to grievance and  to woe

And cultivate my hatred with my tears?

Shall I remember  carefully each blow,

And add this sorrow to my anxious fear?

 

I  thought by hating you I would have peace;

And surely I had reason without doubt.

Yet  rumination  gave me no  release..

For wisdom and compassion it did flout

 

I remembered then  past love and  shared sweet words

I gave  them freedom in my anguished heart.

I did it for your sake, yet then occurred

A sweetness, joy and gladness in all parts.

 

To  forgive,repent and  let go of such grief

Helps us more than hatred’s legal briefs

Between the wish for  changelessness and thrill
We seldom will be satisfied for long
Neither is controlled by human will
As into  stormy life, we all are flung

Self-deception  shields us from our doubts
We choose to pre-select what we will see.
Pretend to know what our life’s  all about
As in little boats ,we ride a stormy sea.

Then  later we choose danger for its spice
And with daring climb the mountain with no ropes
We resist the offer of    advice
Till ,with broken bones, we sadly mope.

Reality’s too little or too much
So ,on our path, our hearts will often lurch

When doubts and drawbacks struggle in the mind
And certainty seems but a demon dream,
When the faith to love is what no-one can find
And even when asleep, the mind still schemes.

When darkness and defeat seem close at hand
And lights dim even as we pray for peace;
When wrecks and ruins rile the native sands;
When in this life we feel we've lost our place.

Then at the saddest depth we see the light
Surrounding with such warmth,with love adorned.
The path that seemed so wrong now leads us right
And in our hearts, warm feelings are new born

Within each storm there is a calm still eye
From there we see the fearsome clouds pass by

I’d love to write a sonnet but I  daren’t
For in this steamy heat it’s much too hard
So please don’t send me messages that taunt
Nor with disdain compare me to our bard.

.For  not all people have poetic skill
And  what I have will sometimes fall to dust
Like virtue  writing’s not made by the will
Await the grace ,as saints and mystics must

In  the mind an empty bowl of space
We keep to catch the offerings of the gods.
It’s more like contemplation than a race;
For freely, quietly we receive the good.

The lady’s not for   turning words to gold
But with a  chosen few she loves to mould