Coming Home

Often living souls will stray

Sometimes they will tip and sway

But as the tide returns each day

Soon they will come home.

.

Where do catlike spirits fly

Which toil would hold and stultify?

They’re hunting free, but by and by

Soon they will come home.

.

Forget the knots of doubt that bind

us to the clock, uncloak the mind,

reach far beyond, and unconfined

we’ll welcome our souls home.

Taking Care

Through the depth of each night, till the dimming of days,

it’s a difficult path to the parting of ways.

For the sake of us all, for our dads and our mums,

The carers will carry the vulnerable ones.

 

When others step sideways, the carers come through,

to meet expectations that daunt but a few.

Intuition and patience, resilience and smiles,

They will take up the slack for the final few miles.

 

 

 

 

Rain

Whisky skies split splashing us to work
purposely bursting sandbagged streets
drenching pigeons grounded in the downpour
spilling the bellies of belching grids
riotous rivulets racing buses like babbling boys
in the serious city the capillary action
of wet feet escapes us from suited restraint
and umbrellas abandoned arm in arm we puddle jump.