Tag: poem

Don’t love as if

A map's a guide to find a world
Knitted by angels,plain or pearled,
And though you need a map as guide,
Keep your own eyes open wide.

I spent a year caught in a map
Until I found a big enough gap
I crawled out through this exit slit,
So here I am,like some half wit.

Words can act like heroin,
You live so high ,where I have been.
But onto earth I gladly fall.
air the sun the rain is all.

My senses are my lovers long-
My ears,my eyes,my skin,my tongue.
The winds caress my naked flesh,
To dwell on earth is all I wish.

I'll live with mice and birds and plants,
I'll share my food with miscreants
I'll keep my words inside a tin,
And only, now and then,go in.

I'll live with cats and spiders three.
And like a wild flower grow quite free.
I'll give my words to those who hear,
And eventually I'll disappear.
Earth to earth then ash to ash,
When soaked with rain I shall disperse.
My atoms wing like butterflies,
And to the Flower I'll fly,disguised
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short eared owl

short-eared durham owl
meditating over the dale's edge,
shadows the fields and folds
in elegant diurnal flight.

on windside,careful sight
may swoop to prey
and away.

your yellow broad-eyed look,
at once both sharp and distant,
holds me.
oh,silence,
oh ,wind on green,
oh. earth,
sky.

immense your held vision,
sphere without centre,
pied geometer of flight,
sketch your descent and ascent.trees bunched by dry stone wall
call heart home.
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Reverberations

 What a day

Serebro in the music video Lets Hold Hands.
Serebro in the music video Lets Hold Hands. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Menorah
Menorah (Photo credit: Lawrence OP)
 

Like a piece of ground where bombs go off repeatedly,
my inner landscape is perpetually marked
by these explosions of sorrow,
made all the worse
by the lack of a listening ear,
a warm open heart
or an outstretched hand.

I have constructed a map
but it's incomplete,by its nature;
so even now,I might stumble into an old hole
or a new one,created
by reverberations underground;
the noise like distant music,
a  constant drumbeat.

We do not dance
I might call it the Liturgy of Loss,
a dance to the music of rhyme;
Patterns and shapes hold the feelings
and express them.The shape of these forms
is a container for the grief.

In this way,I indicate
that life will go on;I hear the healing music
and sing to its melodies
like a mermaid on the edge of the sea in winter
when the water is cold and green like his eyes,
and the rocks are hard like large fists.Nature can be a symbol for such emotion
we cannot walk without a tear in ech eye
and a softening of our hearts
as tenderly we touch the world
and are touched in turn by each other.Stretch out your hand to meet mine.
We can hold each other better
than each can hold theirself.
Like in sex, the meaning is not the climax
but the giving and being given;
receiving and being received.
The sacredness of the erotic needs no explanation
to a gardener or a fisherman
but may need it for the information saturated,postmodern
who dwell in the fascist virtual reality we call life today
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A newly discovered sonnet by William ~Snakeswagger

English: Edward Lear, illustration for "T...
English: Edward Lear, illustration for “The Owl and the Pussycat” (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Eugène Delacroix's 1825 painting "Louis d...
Eugène Delacroix’s 1825 painting “Louis d’Orléans Showing His Mistress”. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

 My mistress’ eye is like a currant bun

Though she has problems,she is  quite divine

Her bosom is bared,bold out in the sun.

I hope that  what his hers is also mine?

My mistress eye looks fine as it is glass

She lost her marbles playing with a fox

She’s good at letting errors whistle past

And mending fuses in that little box.

My mistress dear I gaze upon that breast.

I see her skin is warm and she does sweat.

I too have lusted and I have confessed

But still she gambles and she places bets.

In truth I am as fickle as a weed

but each must act according to his need

 

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Like like the haze of opening leaf buds in spring time….

I see a light fuzz of hair on your head
like the softness of just opening leaf buds in spring.
The chemo is over,and you wait relieved and letting that
take you for a while before you start to face the next stage.
Will your Spring turn to a warm enchanting Summer
or has the cancer,as they say “spread.”
Just for now,you’re in that lull
so in three weeks time you will not be
arriving for another session of drugs
and days of sickness.I see the light fuzz which reminds me
of how the cat’s fur grew back after her surgery
and she,being unable to reflect or question,
leaped from the fence top onto next door’s kitchen roof;
no thought in her mind of stitches breaking.
How beautifully the patterned fur returned
and the vulnerable skin was covered again.
Oh,to look into those eyes and see you dream
about mice that live behind the shed
and how you sat watching for hours
and how you were alive till the very last moment.
Then , all of a sudden,you were gone.

Pray it will not be so for ,the fragile,loving human
now waiting and living,hoping for what you took for granted…
a “normal” life span Or maybe just three quarters of one
would be satisfactory;would be a beneficence
such as trees feel when the sap turns and begins to flow back.
bringing life out of the darkness of earth and soil.
And another Summer comes at the right time
and we find it,shall we say,satisfactory?

 

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In that silence

Sparrows
Sparrows (Photo credit: Sergey Yeliseev)
sparrow
sparrow (Photo credit: Hitched Hiker)Please will you ignore the links.I shall remove them but my hands are painful today,Thank yoIn that silence, I heard sparrows chirpingIn that silence, I heard sparrows chirping

In the still green hedge.
I saw the lake and your reflection
And my reflection.;
and did the sparrows see
as the sun shone slantside
over the steeply falling bank?
Dd they see this natural mirror?
And my mind’s mirror
gave me new reflections
in the reverie
Of the dreaming evening,
As I slid slowly down
Into soft slumber;
Trusting the life within,
Trusting you;
Trusting myself;
and in my reflections
I see you too,
smiling in welcome;
smiling the beautiful smile,the true smile of love itself.
The embrace of the dreaming world
comforts
and holds us
as we breathe gently
in the sweet air
of love.

Repeat

In the still green hedge.
I saw the lake and your reflection
And my reflection.;
and did the sparrows see
as the sun shone slantside
over the steeply falling bank?
Dd they see this natural mirror?
And my mind’s mirror
gave me new reflections
in the reverie
Of the dreaming evening,
As I slid slowly down
Into soft slumber;
Trusting the life within,
Trusting you;
Trusting myself;
and in my reflections
I see you too,
smiling in welcome;
smiling the beautiful smile,the true smile of love itself.
The embrace of the dreaming world
comforts
and holds us
as we breathe gently
in the sweet air
of love.

I

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If it were laughter ….

Bloggers,beggars,buggers… in dreams they are all one.

Wrapped in a grey blanket,who can tell one from another?

They all begin with B

As a matter or tact

My dreaming mind hides the buggers

Inside calm astute faces

Who are political braggers

At daggers drawn with the rubrics of formal

I mean,normal,life.

Who’s to say who wrote The  Four Tartlets

,Or  what rough breast Yeats hoped was coming?

Sometimes they say,it’s behind you now;

that’s an asinine remark.

Idiosynchronizing all my devices

I find my heart and mind left out.;

 makes me doubt,

However,negative capability will pull me threw

the stone you chose to cast.

So you are without sin,a TV

Sin in a tin

A smartphone is not a trombone

Yet it creates more noise

Sneaking categorically,

I’d say I’m tired of the gales

all these tablets are creating


If it were laughter then o.k.

But it’s more like domination

Say it again,Sam.

Wham!

Arms around each other

Some evenings,the sky turned pink
We were happy,lying in the grass
Watching the sun set.
Arms around each other.
Seemed like eternal life had come
Earlier than forecast.
Those weathermen are always wrong!
They need new training
In that timeless moment
In between two raindrops,
In between two tears.

That the world contains THIS, this person,this scenery,this light.

English: The Langdale Pikes
English: The Langdale Pikes (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’m sure since then
I have seen more beautiful places
but what was once called
The Shock of the New
washed over me before I could think.
Then I might say
That the world contains this,
That the world contains THIS,
this person,this scenery,this light;
That the world contains this..
this beauty,this love at first meeting;
THIS person
The total lack of expectation makes the experience possible.

Approaching by rail,on a line now closed
the train needed two engines as it rose from the coast
to Newby Bridge.There we walked onto a steamer and the sail began
At first the long lake is banked by dark trees
It’s peaceful but not remarkable;
turning a bend, all of a sudden the Langdale Pikes are manifest
And ever after they have lived in my heart like a blessing
I’ve even climbed on as a foolhardy schoolgirl;
getting down is the hard part.
Further and further into the heart of the Lakes
Every view is truly loved
but it was this view,the first,from just a small hill
That took away my breath.
Wanting nothing,we sometimes receive everything.
A person , a place,once loved,
is loved forever as they shape our very being
into a truer form;show us possibilities,
Transform us,even though,through them.
we make acquaintance with the sadness of loss and grief.
Love and loss our twin polarities that form our souls.
“And the Spirit of God moved over the face of the waters”

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You so love me

Only Time... (49854383)
Only Time… (49854383) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 In the sudden hotness of the day

The bench beside the roses seemed set right.

We  talked about the flowers  so sweet  so  gay,

And whether Love is visible to sight,

 

The flowers seemed more beautiful and rare

Than any flower I’ve let  my eyes rest on.

I welcomed them with bold yet merry stare.

Ah,all too soon bright summer will be gone.

 

The sun was at the apex of the sky.

We caught the moment like a netted fish.

And as we looked the broad white clouds blew by.

All we can do is wish and wish and wish,

 

Now back to dishes,socks and “what’s for tea?”

I live so well because so  you love me

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Oh,John,Joe Brown you were my man

Image is made from a photo of Manhattan

Image

Oh,John Joe was a jolly man.
He was the man for me.
He had ten fingers on his hands,
And always on my knee,
Oh,John Joe was my husband dear,
He slept upon my bed.
He had ten toes upon his feet,
No man was better bred.
Oh,Dear John Joe did pass away,
Whilst he lay on the grass.
And now ~I have no one aside of me,
How slow the night hours pass.
I love John Joe with all my heart,
I’ll never love a man
The way I loved my dear John Joe.
I don’t believe I can,
I read a twenty dozen books,
And went for therapee.
But all I want is my John Joe
In bed aside of me.
Oh come back John,Oh come back Joe
Don’t you leave me here.
Oh,John Joe I can’t live without
MY husband lying near.
Oh,life’s so simple,life’s so clear,
We all need work and love,
I have my work cut out today
A grieving for my dove
.
Oh,John Joe Brown,you were my man.
I’ll not have any more.
I wish I lay within your arms
Were oft I’ve lain before.
I’ve never lain wi’ noone else
And never will again,
If I can’t have my sweetheart John,
I’ll not have any man.
Oh,come back John,Oh,come back Joe
Don’t lay down in the grass.
I’ll bake thee cake and mutton pies..
So sweet the hours shall pass.
I see ye’ face all pale and white,
Thee frightens me sometimes,
I’ll sit down on my kitchen chair
And think on long gone times
I love my John,I love my Joe,
Oh saints and angels save.
Without my John aside of me,
I’ll soon be in my grave.

God’s not on a map

 6880061_4bcc9b92ca_m 3
    I bought a brand new A to Z.
    I bought a map of Wales.
    I roamed around the whole day long
    Despite the snow and gales.
    I bought the Ordnance Survey too
    of all of the UK
    I looked at maps on Amazon
    and even on E Bay
    I studied charts of Greenland
    And Africa and France
    I talked to expert geographers
    Who looked at me askance.
    Borneo or Burma?
    Malaysia or Spain?
    Where does Father Brown say..
    I must read his books again
    But giving up, I came back home
    And lay down for a nap
    Suddenly it came to me!
    God’s not on a map.

THE KEYHOLE

Image

Sometimes I had my eye too close to the keyhole

    Pulled there by some force like gravity.
    I was gazing with a sharp but narrow focus
    into what I thought was the real.
    But the precision of my gaze
    left out the surroundings, the other doors and rooms
    that  I might have inhabited.
    As he came to me and opened his arms with no rancour,,
    so my eyes opened wider,I took in the new wide vision
    and left my crouched and aching position
    no longer attached like a magnet to your force,
    He was there with his sea eyes.
    He knew the human condition
    And how to inhabit a  conversation.
    Of course he’s had his wounds but never failed to feel
    for himself and others.
    In the night he went through in his mind’s eye the faces
    of his friends;holding them ,like he’d once held fragile rose buds
    when we were married,
    and asked silently for grace.
    The keyhole no longer seemed important
    I suppose narrowing the focus can keep out knowledge of pain..
    But the pain is atill there;
    I have always loved the word “Acknowledge.”

    And now I use it. I acknowledge this pain

If Jesus had had a biro

Cracks in the pavement

If biros had been invented 2,000 years ago,
And paper,
Would we have a copy of the original
Words of Christ?
Would the sobs of angels have been translated
By the bards into images
Of agonizing desolation
At his death?
If St Paul had had a biro
Would he have written more letters?
Possibly with illustrations?
His epistles are many already
If computers had existed would
Apostles have sent emails to their
Missionaries reminding them
Of the true Word?
No.
If computers had existed
Not many would have been outside
Listening to Jesus,
And his parables.
We would be sending messages
And shopping on-line
Or looking up the thoughts of
Ludwig Wittgenstein,
Reading about Prince Charles’ view
On architecture,and wondering
About the Coalition’s treatment of the lower orders.
We would probably not have the space for Jesus’s words.
So if He came now, in form
would He show himself
To obtain some attention?
Would he come as a great cloud of dust and ash?
No.too dramatic.
A storm ,a volcanic eruption?
No,too unavoidable.
Or would he come as a Newsreader on I.T.V?
And from his tragic eyes would we get a message
In between the adverts,
That something basic in us was dying away.
The poetic impulse.
Could He would come back in a fleeting expression
On your face,when you looked at a robin
On your bird feeder.
Or when you smiled
At a stranger in the street.
Maybe He would come back in a special
Silence between you and your lover
When you gaze with grateful delight
At each other,wanting nothing.
Maybe in that happy space inside you
When you are alone,
Loving and not desiring,,
Just happy with that empty space.
Maybe He would come back as a ball point pen
You found in the street,which
Made you write to your sister again.
He could help you to write a better message
That she might understand
Everything that had gone wrong
Between you, so the writing would raise your soul
From the deep well into which it had fallen,
Right next to where Jesus was healing a woman.
That was your soul he was touching.
But you don’t need to know.
The old words don’t work anymore.
The Word has to come again,
But how shall we hear it?
Listening is a dying Art
Here.
But He is here anyway,
Somewhere we may
Rarely have been
So far,
Like the Arctic Circle,
Plenty of empty space and silence there.

I have loved you and I’ve held you.

ImageI have loved you and I’ve held you.

Many years,you have been mine;

If the time has come for parting

Let us embrace for one last time.

You know you have to leave me,

Though you desire a longer stay.

Let me hold you in my arms now

For just tonight and perhaps one day.

Then I’ll watch you travel on,sweet.

We take this last step all alone.

I’ll be here beside you watching.

I shall feel when you are gone.

        May you accept, may you surrender

I’m sure you’ll reach the promised land.

Into this earth my tears will fall, love,

As I recall your tender hands

Our vocations

??????????????

 

I think my vocation is sacred
I keep seeing visions of God
He’s like a bright light
Exceedingly right
Does anything seem to be odd?

I have a calling to follow
I just do not know the details
I pray and I wait
By yonder lychgate
Do vocations ever get into the Sales?

I would like it if I could buy one
I’ll give you all the money I’ve saved
Sell my idea?
My dear,no fear!
Just consider how well I’ve behaved.

Everyone has a vocation
To be who they know that they are.
Yet I am not me
Without you to be
Here in my arms by the fire.

I’ll get an answer tomorrow
As I dream of God during the night
She will give me an image
And the much needed courage
To go on till I see the Light.

The problem is one of translation,
For God speaks in symbols not words
Symbols are wells
in which truth dwells.
And the Spirit swoops down like a bird.

Why not find your vocation?
It’s possible whatever your age.
Attend to your dreams
and how your life seems
Vocations are now all the rage.

Because real knowledge will hurt.

I don’t want to see reality

But I don’t want to lose your care

I want to go on being selfish,

Yet having you always there.

I don’t want to acknowledge your feelings

I ‘m aware I have been very curt

I want to go on not noticing you

Because such real knowledge will hurt.

The longer I go on being blind to you,

The longer I choose not to see,

The more I will hurt you ,my loved one,

The more hard and unfeeling I’ll be.

I don’t want to see reality

I’m frightened of what I may find

I hope a friend will be with me,

While I traverse the dark shades of my mind.

I am afraid to look at at reality

But it’s safer for me if I do

I hope I’ll find enough fortitude

To be able to bear what is true

One meeting of souls

Goodbye,I say,goodbye.

Standing together,
We lean forward touching foreheads lightly
Eyes closed for a moment
Tenderly we respect
The other’s boundaries.
Yet I feel your heart beating too,
As it it were me.
We lean for a few more moments like this.
Wordless.
Holding the broken places,with love.
Then we turn and walk away
Such moments last forever
In the eternity that Love creates
Foreheads touching,
Skin to skin..
Boundaries of the inner and the outer
You are another;
A real human person
Wanting nothing;wanting everything
I shall remember your smile.
You were with me once
And now we go our ways
Our own difficult journeys.

One meeting of souls
Creates its own symbol

May you be blessed
May the fire not burn you
Nor the water drown you
May the Lord keep you always near him.
May He protect your spirit.
May he give you strength always.

 

ROSES

Image

 

 

Winter may reign across the land
Frost and snow abound.
But I smell the roses’ scent so sweet
Whenever you’re around.

I love my love in summertime
Yet loving is easier then.
So now that winter cold smites us
I love my love again.

The deepest snow,the heaviest frost
Will not keep me away.
Come summer sky or winter fogs
I love you every day.

The sweetest rose that ever bloomed
Is not as sweet as you.
You are my garden of delights
I love you through and through.

When spring arrives we see the buds
Of flowers that will  be soon bloom,
I hope our love will open up,
As  flowers do  in the sun.

Not love nor money

Not love nor money should we seek to steal;
Nor for self praise and value be in need
For these things cannot ever truly heal.
And onto a wrong path must often lead.

 

Not to vice nor virtue must our wills be tied;
Yet by free grace we gently may be led
Our will directs attention which denied
May let our pride control our mindless heads.

 

Not good nor bad can track the vane of God
Far from our sightless eyes are his affairs.
Yet Faith and Hope can be a dowsing rod
With Love the force to trace the Spirit bare.

Oh,come down,Spirit,take me as your wife
Fill me with holy grace and with new life.

Another orbit:flying out

 

I know that’s how death will come,
Suddenly flying into another orbit
when you are photographing flowers.
It’s not a gentle transition.
No-one will know where you’ve gone.
One step wrong and you’re.
off the high wire
And plunging into the no safety net.
Flying for a while;
Jumping into hyperspace,spinning electrons
Startle your grey eyes.
Transiting the new black sun
You’re on a double gold helix,
Spider on your web,
Knitting furiously
Into the future heaven on gossamer wings.
Butterfly goodbye,I’m off to see the stars.
And the black holes.No one will come with me.
I’m shaking off,evaporating into mist.
I’m a flying saucer on a circus mission.
I can’t say no to a new invitation.
Make it fast and break with tradition.
Time is passing smoothly till that break
In the music,I’ve been transmuted into a different key
someone else will play me on their violin
I’m a tune,
I’m a thought,
I’m a whisper in your vision.
Goodbye,darling.I’m under orders
Ready to leave for my performance
On the electric carpet.
Death dancing to a tune on a violoncello,
Arpeggionne sonata
I’m playing your words upside down
In a new foreign translation,
Accompanied by solo artists,ice cracking
I’m going in.It’s too sudden.
I’m flying.
Spinning faster to amuse the clowns,
too many ups and no downs.
I’m going right out of orbit
I’ve broken the pull of gravity,
And fly with pure equanimity
Into my future life,
I’m off at some moment,
An instant ,a crack,a loud smack.
That was me passing,

In a blue moon

Blue moon
Too soon
Particles turn
Heart churns
We disagree
You and me.
Life in sand,
Understand.
I draw a line
Love is mined
For healing pain,
My love remains.
I glance at you.
Poignant view.
Eyes shine with hope
Will love cope?

Where the world collapsed into an arch


I wonder who this stranger is,
Who read my poem and walked away,
But never  weeping
On a nuclear power station in Japan

His eyes were on Libya
But he stopped here,and read and then passed
On across what was once a green English metaphor,
Garlanded with daisies.My hero,my Odysseus.
The metaphors were made for you.
The web was woven and unwoven,so
Wherefore art thou,Antonio?

Do not go gentle into that dark night
Send me an email
I’ll wash you with the grit of shells from Dover Beach,
Where the world collapsed into an arch
Across nothingness into zero itself,the sun,the moon.
All shrank into this diamond.
I give it to you,stranger.

When words are the only

When words are the only way we can connect

communicate,

When words are our only link,

light

When words go wrong

Wring

our hearts

What are we to use to mend

minister?

What are we to write

right

wrong?

When the written is all,

alone,

When we can’t find the words

Wary

What are we to do?

Dictate

Dream

Deny

Depict

When words wound

wander

retaliate

writhe

Where are we now?

numb

null

naught

How can we make it up

Invent

In verse

Intent

lament

loss

love

linger

loiter

lie

link

last

least

locate.

Where is the wound?

Wreck.

Reckoning

Resolve

Resolute.

Redress

Where is our new map?

Meaning

Moaning

Making

Making it up

Inventing love

Re-creation

Return

Remember to forget.

Wrestle

Redeem.

Resolve.

No Retaliation.

No redirection

No harboring ill.

No bad will.

When words have gone awry,

Yet words are all we have.

When words don’t create a form

Yet direction is what we need.

When words no longer live

last

lost

We wait

Rest

Rescue

Retrieve

Remember

Love

lies underneath

lasts

longs

laments

lasts

and lasts.

Love lasts

till words connect

console

correct

catch you

cradle you

caress you

Conjugate you

Put you in a sentence

syntax

spell

magic

magnetic

mine

made new

murmured in your ear

mentioned

in my letters

write

rites

make right.

make us write

goodness.

Let it all be

Light.

Let me take your hand

Pull me up

I need a hand,

a word,

eye contact.

I contact

You

Me

Us.

When words are not enough

Imageh,words

when words are not enough
to give our feelings form
music is the language
which many find gives calm

when words are too clumsy
touch may be enough
a glance of compassion
may pull us from the Slough

when words don’t come easy
when music fails to charm
then come to me and tell me;
I’ll enclose you in my arms

gestures,touch and glances
are a language in themselves
words are not enough for us
We need  touch as well.

Autumn love

 

Image

 After summer’s  sultry flowers,

 We get autumn showers.

 Winds that blow.

 Leaves that glow.

 ,Nature’s wealth is ours.

Harvest grain and harvest corn.

 All  our food from earth  is born.

 Warmth of sun-

 Ripeness come-

 Fruits and nuts adorn.

 Trees are turning red and gold

In the glancing sun.

 Leaning down I see your face.

 Autumn love has come

Trust the unknown force that grew you

“All shall be well,and all manner of things shall be well”
St Julian of Norwich

 

Trust the unknown force that grew you,
From the joining of two cells.
Act of love, of self giving,
Thus to grow a newer self.

 

Trust the dark,the unseen aspects
Of the life we all do live.
Trust that there is wisdom elsewhere,
To your emptiness to give.

 

Wait in patience for the time
When inspiration comes at last
Trust in darkness,silence,lowness.
Opposition forms the cross.

 

Pain is bearable in lowness,
Like the worm in earth I dwell.
When I look I see the sunrise

And I trust all shall be well.

Deserted

The woman walks in a bleak landscape of monotone colors.
With child,she crosses this rough terrain
without a Joseph to protect or a donkey to carry her.
No inn nor stable is here.No cattle nor sheep
nothing alive.
Now she feels her labor pains coming;
Lies down amongst the rocks to wait
Here is an anonymous,faceless figure.
Pronounces himself a doctor.
She labors; he picks up her son.No Messiah nor Oedipus;
Without speaking,he conveys to her,this child  is dead.
Not ever held in the arms of hie mother
Nor father either.
He’s tossed, light as a few feathers,
light almost as a bird
onto a pile of bodies nearby.
Whose unwanted children are these:?
Still lying flat she observes her child
one of many there.
Days pass and strength returns.
Stands now and walks over to say,Farewell.
The child opens his eyes
Mother,they say,mother.
Holds him and presses him into herself for warmth…
Which way to go and when?
No signs, no maps…
Is there a right way?
Is there a guide?
Why was she journeying this way?
She remembers nothing
She has lost almost everything ….
Steps forward..and walks on.
What other choice is there?

You don’t love me any more

I found the message on your door,
You don’t love me any more.
Once you said “Oh,je t’adore”
Confusin’ ,musin’ losin’.
Why leave your message on display?
It’s been pinned up there all day.
I feel it’s such a cruel way.
Posin’,.musin’,.choosin’.
Can’t you tell me face to face,
Are you so short of human grace?
A brief letter would show more taste.
Deludin,broodin,floosin’.
Let me learn a lesson here.
I will not live my life in fear.
I’ll just shift into high gear
Illusion,fusion,musin’.
Once I thought that you loved me.
You announced it on the BBC.
Was it just publicity?
Amazin’,fazin’,crazin’.
Everybody has one life,
Sometimes filled with woe and strife.
Your loss went through me like a knife.
But,thank God I’m not your wife!
Musin’,choosin”,loosin,boozin’.

Geese fly by

Wintery frost and sunset
Wintery frost and sunset

AUTUMN

It’s Autumn weather, geese fly by,

Autumn rust,red,gold,so gay

Drystone walls edging fields,

Apples gathered,holly berries

Flash so brightly

Look like flowers

Sun shines sideways,shadows long

Of trees appear;I dwell amongst.

Woods of gentle beeches sing

Swaying with the sideward wind.

See their roots, all intertwined.

Feel their geometry in your mind.

Look up now into the sky,

See the V formation high.

Geese fly home at end of day.

My heart is moved by patterned dance

In this peace and great silence

My mind widens like the sky

And in this moment I would die,

So I would stay with this still vision

Of geese set out on autumn mission.

Snails in rain pools slither near

My feet upon the terrace here

And look,upon their whorled backs

All the sense of life is packed.

And yet so easily Life’s destroyed,

When blind foot foot steps into the void
;

In awe and fear

They lay down in awe and fear,
Of what their love was bringing near.
They gazed into each others eyes
And so did tantalise.

They lay down to gaze into
the eyes and soul of one who’s true.
They gazed until ,when overcome,
They were united into one.

Their souls and bodies were conjoined,
And thus their hearts were well entwined;
As honeysuckle on the walls,

In joy’s sweet arbours does grow tall,

 
Their loving lips and eyes and hands
Gave pause to time’s soft flowing sands.
and as they touched and gazed and longed,
The birds sang out in glorious songs.

Which is me and which is you?
Are we one or are we two?
I give you all myself today,
So this shall be our way