Why do we feel shame when we are seen?

Whose the eyes that glare like a bad dream

A little child is frozen,feels unclean

Across the country many see this scene

Now students make sure you can read your own handwriting Mary said loudly just before she woke up.

And what were you lecturing on, asked Emile the cat.

I think it was Cassandra.she cried

I never knew Cassandra was interested in maths, Emile told her.

I don’t mean Cassandra Smith

Well who do you mean,?

That is the mystery of life

THE mystery Is there only one?

That’s the other mystery

I threw lilies for the priest to tread

He carried Jesus so the teacher said

Things aren’t what they seem the Father said

I love you but there is no place for bed

I know a gypsy boy is better bred

Close to that green nature we are glad

The flowers do not fret about their dress

Nor do they have sins which they confess

The smile lit up her face, the blackness shrank

For this lightning we give many thanks

Her eyes were like green amber damp with rain

They glowed so much it gave my head a pain.

Her nose was short but did its job with ease

Every hour it gave out a big sneeze.

Her ears were pink with love though somewhat bent

Lord have mercy,she is feeling faint

Lie her down by me and I will pray .

I know the words but what do we my words say?

What a gentleman was doctor Brown

He was admired all over our town

He loved cats and dogs

Morecambe Bay in a fog

And he never put anyone down

When did you visit NZ ?

About 4 fears ago

How did it go?

Fearfully well.

How was the sport?

The jeers were so so

And the penalties?

Just cheers of some sort

I bought more cyclamen and thought of you
Wandering through wild flowers by my side
I don’t know where to put them,they might die
Then I would feel so sad and lonely blue

All we read of pain and love is true.
Yet we let our hearts stay open wide
I bought some cyclamen and wanted you
Wandering through wild flowers by my side

I have loved not widely but a few
I have touched on bliss and when it flies
I have touched the grief that truly lies
I bought these little flowers and thought of you

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now : A poem By A.E.Housman

Sep20 by nisheedhi

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.

Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.

And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now : A poem By A.E.Housman

Like a slighted woman in the rain

The darkness of your visage gives me pain

The sky is jaundice yellow very plain.

I hope this day will never come again

Go slowly on the journey to the end
The many details intricate and fine
Will be unnoticed ,touched not by our hands

,

Let the eyes roam widely , landscape blend
Appreciate the manner and desigh
Go slowly on the journey to the end

Be like a little ladybird,descend
To one blade of grass give all the mind
Or life will go unnoticed by blind hands

O let us lose our boundaries and and bend
Becoming one with every kin and kind
Go slowly on the journey to the end

In just a country lane, the air will mend
Peace and holy dignity defined
Nature must be one with human hands

In the outer world we find our minds
Symbols,metaphors poetic lines
Go slowly on the journey to the end
Else beauty will be wasted, love unwound

see a gentle globe, the winter sun
Setting into softness  like pink down
As if a gentle wind made sunset come

The watercolour  mauve has overrun
Wishing to make light  of winter’s frown
I can see how  winter  hurts the sun

Overhead  it’s soft grey tinged with plum
This is no  fit garment for a clown
But  gentle winter winds made sunset come

A blueness planetary makes our dome
As if a verb is subtly changed to noun
I can see how  night clouds flirt with sun

All the pink is falling,falling ,gone
The sun is left a monarch with no crown
As if a low dark wind made nightfall come

My heart is watered as the colours run
Combining,dying,falling,night has won
I still see a  shadow of the sun
Now   the work  of  wind  is  over, done

D

Alone in  my small room ,end-state despair
I wondered what to do ,go here or where?
I tried the doctor and the priest  and then
Knew there was no answer from a man
I saw in my mind’s eye a  tunnel black
To which I was dead heading on my track
Abject and broken by a lover’s death
By his own hand, he tested out God’s wrath
 I was  held by  golden  clouds of fire
I felt the  kindest love , the Lord’s desire
The tears ran down my cheeks in one great gush,
Acknowledging acceptance without wrathAnd so I  turned  to life and to my work
Pain and torment shall not make me shirk

Soon after my loved one’s death

I was trying to write a poem of a mystical nature.I then went to put the kettle on

As I stood by the wotksurface

I felt a force on the back of my neck then my head bowed down and I realised I must say cknowledge the presence of God

After I prayed my head came up again

I have not felt it again

Trying to find a hospital

I think that there can’t be one rule that is the answer but for many people discussing with a trusted person is beneficial

But it depends on how we do it

No good to tell everyone we know.We may not get sympathy.

We may anger or distress them

If it is a friendship in which both of you can talk about your problems that is better than if it is one sided.

O

I studied mathematics by my will

Poetry was desire,my love fulfilled

One was work in ancient signs thus wrought.

The other, streams of symbols like fish caught.

Permutations of the living word

Will never end though they may be absurd

All the tea in China was enough

To make us high and vanish with a puff.

As gutsy as a hair from whiskered cat

She asked noone for help but handsome rats.

Then feeding them with bacon she found out

What the life of rats is all about

I once had a doctor called Benn

His father and mother kept hens

He went over each week

Inspecting their beaks

Before cycling out to the Fens.

They

The cherry blossom’ s bliss to winter eyes.

When life comes back to earth

where last year died

100 ways to sabotage a motorway.

1 Hold a demonstration

2 Set off 1000 fireworks in 2 hours

3 Hold a street party for people living in tower blocks,,..,…..        

4 Get your local priest say Mass for the souls of all those killed on the Motorway to Then sing For all the Saints

5.Let a lorry load of potatoes get free to roll

Do some more yourself

The tree is almost silent in the sun

Only little fieldmice listen in.

Do worms have ears,oh where is kingdom come?

Beetles drink the brandy,is it fun?

I shared my cake with Pussy

I am bad

I shared by cake with Peter

I am good

I threw my cake out just to feed the birds

Copy me and you will feel absurd

Illusion,…..belief you are ill.

Collusion,….a car crash you are in.

Confusion,. Sexual connection in the ancient world.

Delusion,….the false belief you own shares in Dell or a Dell computer.

Infusion….swallowing your lover.

Signs and symbols guide the route.

Love gives the soul her appetite.

Though the night is black and starless,

The inner guide is never careless.

The notes are struck,the music’s played,

Plain melodies are overlaid.

In this chant and benediction,

Healing comes for desolation.

Though the passage way is narrow,

This road is the one to follow.

Struggling through the mud and mire,

We see,in darkness, tongues of fire.

The sacred centre of our life

Is never found without some strife.

Just then, the dark and light combine.

To create a symbol for the mind

In this spring weather birds appear

Building nests for offspring dear.

The sun is low and sends strange light

Shadows long form artist’s sight

Blossom bends from trees still bare

Cherry AE Housenans dear.

I look up into the sky

No geese are here for a flyby.

I look down and see the soil

Where the worms in patience Toil

Like the Carers in a Home

Noone writes of them in poems

Noone writes of beetles paths

Not of great spiders hidden worth

The cobwebs glitter with small gems

We have no way to preserve them

So we must seize the moments beads

Decorations our souls need

The tree looks polished in the morning light

The rising of the heart makes faces bright