Category: triolet

Blythburgh angels

By Blythburgh church, the cottage was unique
At night the floodlight  made me catch my breath
So beautiful the sight,I could not speak
I felt my soul awaken from its sleep
The Cathedral of the marshes is unique
The  soaring space,the stone, the river deep
The images that fade, the angels’ laugh
By Blythburgh church, the cottage was unique
In  the  dark , the floodlight caught my breath

The strange river

Photo by Katherine

The water ripples in the early sun

The full dark river hurries to the sea

As secretive as an en-cloistered nun

As powerful as s tiger on the run

As poisonous as a snake out having fun

As other as a stranger is to me

As heavy as a heart when love won’t come

The Iron Fist

I missed the flowering of the maple tree
Where red leaves swell like baby’s growing fists
i fear to struggle there, what shall I see,
Just the doves and sparrows flying free?
Missed the flowering of the maple tree
But watched less subtle human comedy
Saw politicians flounder, saw ships list
Missed the burning of some red leaved tree
I wonder when they’ll break the baby’s wrists?

Water from our hills

We climbed a stile oh what a reservoir
Water from our hills served other towns
If you’re listening, theres no editor
We climbed a stile, surprised the reservoir
We don’t have our pure water anymore
We may have perfect kitchens but we frown
We loved the stile, we saw the reservoir
Water from our hills stole by yon’ towns

Love and blindness

Love and structure made  our life secure
Although outside our tent, the gales still blew
Now alone,I fear I can’t endure
Your loving presence made my life secure
Now I stand on air ,supportless,poor
Love and structure made  our life secure
Now I am afraid and pale my hue
Love and  blindness made us feel secure
I forgot ,outside the tent,  wild gales still  blew

Love flowed

All we had was the cooker and the bed
I bought some sheets and blankets up the road
The Coop had a  shop, it saved my head
All we had was the cooker and the bed
We  must have had some plates, yes, they were red
Indicating we were not well bred
Cutlery and mugs were gifts bestowed
All we had was much love and a bed
I  made a meal and after that we flowed

Now is lost

The face that was familiar  now is lost
You seem as far away  as is the moon
My heart has paid  for you the savage cost
The face that was so loved, by  now is lost
And my own inner being  is fear- tossed
Though  five  long, weary years have wandered past
I no longer  fear to meet my doom
The face that was familiar  now is lost
Love seems far away,  like a new moon

Your piercing eye

Your hands were warm , your inner fire burned bright
Your piercing eye was also deep and blue
As if inside there  glowed deep  flames of light
You could see  and feel what  poets wrote
Your hands were warm,your mind and heart burned bright
I wonder if you’d felt what others sought
Though you are no more,  you haunt my view
Your heart was warm, the fires of love were bright
Your piercing eye, a hawk, an eagle too

Life,the art that needs our hearts

When must we be cautious, when let go?
Who knows how to choose the better  part
When to use our will and when to flow
When to plant  the seed and watch it grow
When  ought we be cautious, when let go?
When to bend  as wilder winds can blow
How to live,the art that needs our hearts
When  may we be cautious, when let go?
Who knows how to guess the better  part?

Who loved the  words, who loved the entire song

The eyes that gazed on me with love profound
The hand the touched me with caresses  true
The one who made me happy on earth’s ground
Who loved the  words, who loved the entire song
Who loved me with rare  subtlety of mind
Whose love was strong, whose being was most kind
And thus with all his qualities imbued
The eyes that gazed,  delighted  I was found
The hand, the touch,  the giving , taking   true

Gathering  up the treasures  from the sands

We do not hunt for thoughts,we let them come
Gathering  up the treasures  from the sands
The sea shores of the world in dark,in sun
Where children play  till all the day is  done
The mystery of the deep, of whales and men
We do not hunt for thoughts,we let them come
Sailing in from distant foreign lands
We do not hunt for thoughts,we let them come
Gathering  up the treasures  till the end

No body

Nobody has no mind, no self .no flesh
No sense, no purpose, nothing that will last
What is worse, to be trapped in a mesh
To be immoral, sinful and loveless
To stumble in a  morass of distress
The sinking sands  of childhood thought surpassed
Nobody has no mind, no self .no flesh
There is a body-mind retrieved from trash

Ready to begin

What is not a sin may be a crime
Tie me up and burn me,I’m malign
Don’t they say this is the best of times
With tablets. smartphones, free verse with  few lines
Though in the end you have you make your name
There is no need to hang it on a sign
What is never done may be a sin
Let me out.I’m ready to begin

Grief in lockdown

Why do I weep when I am all alone?
None can see me ,none can  hold me here
The heart I had was made from heavy stone
Now it has dissolved into a groan
Why do I weep when I am all alone?
My mind is muddled,all I see’s unclear
Why do I weep when I am all alone?
None can see me ,who’s my comforter?

The words I’ve read

I like to go to sleep,I feel so hot
I need an ice cold drink by my old bed
There must be something else,but I forget
Why was Albert Einstein  full of smut?
Relatively speaking, he was shot
A photon waved and particled a dot
When you’re living you’re not really dead
I like to go to bed,I  have no plot
I buy a  book and eat the words I’ve read

Fortune favours the brave

Why fortune favours courage I don’t know
But if we’re too afraid, we do not see
We hate  so much that fateful heavy blow
Cringing, shrinking, with half closed eye
As if our vision’s blocked by heavy snow
We are  more brave when others share our view
Fortune favours courage, yet be slow
Fear  makes sight a tunnel, sadly true

Am I wrong?

I thought I’d write another villanelle
I like  repeated lines as in a song
The music seems to permeate my cells
Inside my entire being music dwells
Would I write another villanelle?
A triolet is shorter, love is long
Musing, I decided villanelle.
I like  repeated lines but am I wrong?

The change is come

The tender glance, the heart, the love displayed
Where will I find a home  now you are gone
Where in the abyss is such a place?
Where the eyes which will contain my gaze?
The voice that spoke to me can’t be replaced
At this turning point , the change will come
The tender glance, the heart, the love displayed
Where will I find a home,my love is gone?

He is no more

The heart that touched my heart I feel no more
Alone in this great space. I feel afraid
Like a conductor who has lost the Score
The soul that touched my soul I feel no more
As other orders  that soul did obey
The heart that touched my heart I feel no more
Alone in the abyss. I feel afraid