May 18, 2018 at 8:47 pm (Poems) (, , , , )

A garden has a lot to teach
When in my life I overreach,

Reminding me to find the place
Beneath my feet, where earth’s embrace

Will give me all I ever need
To reap the love I sewed from seed,

For though life’s secrets will unfold
And I must wander till I’m old

It is a garden filled with flowers
Where I will spend my happiest hours.


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May 11, 2018 at 12:26 pm (Poems) (, , , )

My eyes have softened
yet I have greater focus,
and see how things are.

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To Brian

May 3, 2018 at 11:01 am (Poems) (, , , , , , )

I’m so sorry I betrayed you tonight,
Left you stranded in the wilderness
Whilst I admired the new love I found
A tad less tarnished, with additional features glimmering.
I feel your disappointment- tangible, justifiable,
Your destiny is in my hands.

Remember when we met? I shook hands
with the man and said “I will take him tonight”,
The pleasure I felt made the cost justifiable,
And together we drove to our home in the wilderness
to enjoy simple times, love of life glimmering,
impatient and hungry for all we found?

I wonder, when you leave, whether you will have found
a stronger, more able pair of hands
to restore you to your former glimmering,
I will make you comfortable for tonight,
in the familiar wilderness,
and hope you are consoled, your hurt justifiable.

It might be some little while before you forgive me,
for discarding the familiarity we found,
leaving us both in a new wilderness,
One last journey, and the future not in our hands.
I wonder if you will want to see me tonight?
whilst my heart beat is quickened, my eyes glimmering .

Maybe when you are in a good place – glimmering,
you will reflect on this and find it justifiable,
and you will remember the good times. But tonight,
do not try to understand the new love I have found,
Tonight, I am Judas, Ephialtes, blood on my hands,
Next to you in the wilderness.

One more night in our shared wilderness
your faded colour faintly glimmering,
I reach out and touch your warm body with my hands,
If you pulled away it would be justifiable.
More than thirty years of service and tears are all you’ve found,
but know in your soul, I still love you tonight.

Two old hands in the wilderness
where tonight your lights are glimmering,
Justifiable sadness, but a new beginning , and new love to be found.

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Pot of Joy

April 30, 2018 at 6:28 pm (Poems) (, , )

When you plant a pot of joy
It’s not sophisticated,
Nor filled with such unusual stuff
it grows too complicated.

In fact, it’s more what is left out:
All angst and consternation,
The kind of things you hear about
In troubling conversation.

No, when you plant a pot of joy
It overflows with colour;
It’s filled with smiles and kindly words
and pleases like no other.

No matter what you plant it in,
On sill or stony mound
A pot of joy puts out strong roots
and spreads the joy around.

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April 26, 2018 at 5:46 pm (Poems) (, , , )

Caring means something felt
And then something done
Remembering when someone cared for us
Empathising even when it is difficult.

Gained trust is a gift received
Inspite of hardship
Very often the only thing left
Irreplaceable and precious
None of us are perfect, but
Give heartily and know you are loved.

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April 24, 2018 at 10:34 pm (Poems) (, , )

We steal north
where peaks are crag and caved
and folk are sketched
with sharpened pencils.

Here rheumatic trees
have spindled pointed knees
and blue noses poke
unseasonal blasted clouds.

Sounds hang sharp
shriek pierce and blow
holes in limestoned earth
invoking snow.

They beckon me in
and back I itch to scratch
a path – thin and poor
but these are peaks I know.

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April 23, 2018 at 7:34 am (Poems) (, , )

I love train journeys
Sitting with perfect strangers
Drinking cold coffee.

The book in my bag
is dull in comparison:
all life is right here –

Held tight in packed bags,
contained anticipation:
quietly ready.

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I Will Rock You.

April 12, 2018 at 5:38 pm (Poems) (, , )

You read me a story about a strange clockwork bird, and I flew away to dance with aurora borealis.

We are sheltering in our dreams, spending time with animals and gentle folk who move gracefully.

The dream is punctuated by broken glass and the threat of knives, but I really can’t go there right now.

She is frightened by his humour and clearly more at home when the date is reviewed on national tv.

Even now, you are searching for meaning, and I can remember how dark it was outside that train.

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April 12, 2018 at 1:22 pm (Poems) (, , , , )

Why cook? Why would I light a fire
when I could spend a happy hour
with people that I almost know
in comfort of a fireside glow?

I’d eat a pie and share a beer
but small mind talk is drinking here,
what poison cup makes folk forget
the basic value of respect?

Community – a chance to chew
on thorny issues old and new,
a chance to learn and to debate,
But not to bully, maim and hate.

Old fireside fears are brewed so deep
and subjugate us while we sleep,
They drink our peace and keep us mean,
Let’s open minds at opening time?

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April 7, 2018 at 6:43 pm (Poems) (, , )

Beware the thwish of arrows:
A hard bow drawn outwards
seeks to deflect attention from internal strife.

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