Monday, 4 June 2018

Bitter flowers of Autumn

Life does not seem long enough.
Here come the bitter flowers of Autumn,
Dry, brittle, brown.
They are relentless, inescapable.
Still, I long to throw them in the air
So the thin sunlight can
Bring them to brighter colours
And let them dance with the October breeze.

Friday, 25 May 2018

A little light pollution

It had been a lovely evening,
All birdsong and soft light.
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Now, it became the night;
Noisy with sirens in murky olive grey,
Punctuated by flashing blues and reds
And that malicious green that's
Quite untouched by nature.

I used to love the city,
Now I don't.
But with loss of love came indolence
And perhaps a little fear.
Would elsewhere be better?

Sunday, 6 May 2018

Shall I be Queen of the May

Shall I wear the white dress
One more time?
Shall I be Queen of the May
With flowers hair?

Will these withered fingers
Touch those lovely ribbons,
And the crooked legs dance the
Magic one last time?

Shall I wax and wane
Until the summer child
Emerges squirming
Into the morning light?

I think not.
Time and experience, my dear
Have taken all my dancing skills.
The dress has lost its gleam.

I'll toast the dancers,
Wish them well.
And then, being grateful for solitude,
Go back to my dream.

Wednesday, 25 April 2018

My golden girl is gone

My golden girl is gone,
Lost, with her honey coloured skin
And silver hair.
She left me almost empty,
Paler, and with less substance.
Her scent's still on the air,
And an impression
Almost like a ghost.
She left with few words.
No point in words,
The distance is too great.
Half a world's between us now.
"I have a question."
"Oh, I've forgotten.
But, we'll keep in touch."
With that
My golden girl is gone.

Looking for the chimera

The supernaturals,
Shaman or chicanery?
We look for signs,
Outside ourselves, or within.
Isn't there enough,
More than enough, mystery?
Questions within questions,
Until we lose ourselves.
Lost in a haze of doubt,
We are left
Looking for the chimera,
With a wish to be awestruck.
Faith wins over uncertainty,
And heart wins over mind.
But, oh, those worrying contradictions.
Then, we long for reassurance,
Miracles and confirmation
Of values long held.
All coated perhaps
With a sense of wonder.

Thursday, 19 April 2018

Too gentle, perhaps

A quiet man and gentle.
Too gentle, perhaps,
Loving and kind!
Too kind?
Is that possible?
What does it really mean?
How much kindness is too much?
Is it when kindness
Slides into sacrifice?
But isn't sacrifice good?
"You, before me"
Alway, sometimes, never?
And what about love?
"Oh, love is always sacrifice."
"No, it isn't.
Love can be bloody selfish."
But then is that love?
And should you pay the price?

Saturday, 11 November 2017

Not a word said

Granddad sitting by the fire
Said nothing of his past
That time
That other time
Just sometimes he made
A joke about the lice
And how he'd used a match
To clear them from his vest
Night, night sleep tight
Mind the bugs...
Working men like him
Said little
I didn't know
He'd lost a brother.
And his beloved working horses
Gone to war with him
Didn't come back.
I had to go to others
For those tales.
Sassoon's descriptions
Still haunt
The word bloated
Makes me nauseous
Oh it wasn't glorious
That people like Granddad
Saw things they shouldn't
Not a word said
Never forgot