Things Change

February 9, 2019 at 10:45 pm (Poems) ()

Things change
Sometimes by imperceptible degrees,
sometimes by external stealth, change
leaps upon us so we cannot find
core strength, and topple.
Sometimes change brings light, taking us to a new place, beyond cloying comfort, thrilling us with cleansing alarm.
How ever brittle our reflections
the face of change remains unaltered:
challenging our resistance, creasing
our gentle flesh through smiles and tears.

I am your potential and you are mine, one orbiting the other, offering possibility.
And all the time, change watches, smug in the knowledge it will always snag the main role, no matter what our human dedication.

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Little in Common

January 18, 2019 at 6:21 pm (Poems) (, , , , , , , )

What a small life
To trust only what we know
And disregard the other.

So many books
So many friendships
So many possibilities
Never explored.

Imagine if we
embraced difference
Shared spaces
Opened minds:

Imagine what we might learn
About ourselves.

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Today

January 11, 2019 at 11:12 pm (Poems) (, , )

Today has granted me some faith
The dark side will not thrive,
A fragile hope I dare to hold
That keeps my love alive.

So gentle was this day, despite
my fears that all was lost,
I found some kindness in the air
like clouds and fairy dust.

Old bitternesses found no place
to spoil my peace of mind,
they simply burst and spun away
to learn how to be kind.

Twenty three thousand breaths today
were all it took to build
A vessel made of loveliness
just waiting to be filled.

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New Year’s Prayer

January 1, 2019 at 1:36 pm (Poems) (, , , )

When we are old and inconvenient
please shelter us from abuse.
Grant our carers the patience
to listen with open hearts
and hear the anguish
of an aching body required to comply
with another’s misplaced will.

Let them know that speed
is not an accomplishment
that supercedes our dignity,
and remind them that though our ears be deaf, or eyes be blind,
we reach out for their understanding and hear their complaints
with our very souls.

When we are old and inconvenient,
please grant us patience
to deal with things carried out
in our ‘best interests’
and lend us a sense of humour
and a kindly nature, so we may bend with grace, and offer something in return.

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Time

December 30, 2018 at 8:56 pm (Poems) ()

When I was eight or nine
Mum and Dad gave me a watch.
It was small, with a black strap
and real numbers.
Time was made tangible by its touch.

Since I was eight or nine
I have been fascinated and repelled
by all notion of time, fixed and passing.

I will not be defined by mealtimes, deadlines or clock chimes: will not swing on the heavy pendulum
that marks each moment of a dying day.

My precious watch is tucked away, unwound.
And I dance between beats,
acknowledging respectfully
but untethered by Time.

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Christmas Cake

December 24, 2018 at 10:03 pm (Poems) (, )

Mix is mixed, cake tin fixed
Cake’s in the tin, heat on and in!
Ready for the marzipan, brushed with extra shiny jam
Icing rolled, clean and white
Rudolph with his nose so bright.

Our cake for Christmas is complete
With footprints from four snowy feet
A Christmas wish for goodness sake
All baked with joy in Christmas cake!

Merry Christmas Everyone! 🌲🎅

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Christmas 2018

December 22, 2018 at 12:52 pm (Poems) (, , )

Political Christmas approaches
The stables are filled with the bray
Of animalistic impressionists
Who think they control us today.

But know in your heart it’s the small things –
The smiles we exchange in the street
The warmth of a hand on a cold day
A kindness, a cuddle, a treat –

It’s these things that fill up our stockings
And give us the strength to go on,
Let’s share out our loving this Christmas
And hurry glad tidings along.

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Poor David

November 25, 2018 at 9:32 pm (Poems) (, , )

She knew him as a photograph
A poster on the wall
She had a suitcase full of him
But never knew it all

She didn’t go to stadia
To squeal with all the rest
Because she quietly supposed
He always loved her best.

The magazines presented him
With silky hair and smile
That promised her the moon and back
And stayed there for a while.

Poor David was a superstar
Who sang to her alone
But never came down from the wall
To call his very own.

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Watermark

November 23, 2018 at 1:18 pm (Poems) (, , )

It’s funny how our lives will weave
a pattern which we can’t conceive
of when we try to plan a route
from A to B. So what’s afoot?
Relax your eyes and look again
and you will see another frame
existing but so nearly not
it’s hard to know the path it plots
but trust its steady head and heart
To guide your hand as you depart.

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Mole

October 6, 2018 at 8:47 pm (Poems) (, , , )

  • The mole so blindly pushes dirt
  • To find the light. And oh, it hurt
  • To stand in darkness and in fear
  • Of losing heart: to be unclear
  • Of where to dig and plant my soul
  • I need a place to be a mole.

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