If silence cannot catch you

The lean

And thinner coppice

She holds no winds

Or taller stories

Of highwaymen masquerading

As tramps or clowns

Or troubadours

In silks and finest gowns

She’s mean

With rotten poppies

Rescinds gold tops

And Cornish toffees

Of children masquerading

As harlots or darling dares

Or harlequins

In diamanté and laced up squares

I’m keen

But have long forgotten hobbies

I see no cinders about to flair

Or street treading bobbies to care

Of adults masquerading

As lovers with slow light flashes

Or layabouts in sackcloth

And forlorn unborn ashes

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Summer sun descending

To turn you on

To pass you by

The leaves have gone

The sand is dry

Oh me oh my

What am I escaping from

The South West sky

And the dinner gong

It won’t be long

Neither now nor in time past present

The time ahead to turn somehow

And not be unwisely led

To turn you on

To pass you by

The leaves have gone

Is now the time to belie

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Inculcate

It is lunchtime

I have been out

To take a few photographs

Looking at the mist and trees

The small fruit and the fallen leaves

I am back indoors

The radiator keeps me warm

And Poppy Ackroyd’s immersive mix

Keeps my minds attention

Focussed on the lightness of touch

Using the IKEA wooden boxes “knagglig"

For speaker stands has worked a treat

Although I am considering yoga blocks

As an alternative, to allow the boxes

Once more to be used for art material storage

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Calculate

To wonder

How to reach

Beyond here and now

Yes

How to go

Into time

Those thirteen hours

Between your time

And my time

Or those

Fifteen-thousand- one - hundred and twenty

Back to the last time

Imagine

All of that time

Without you

Work it out for yourself

The numbers

Are the easy part

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Projectile

When do we stop doing those things

Which we felt to be so important in the moment

Those activities begun with such enthusiasm

Having found an apparent sense of purpose

Only to find out, days or months later

That the intensity has faded, replaced

Or so I suppose by another, new infatuation

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I or U

I am clumsy, awkward

Undistinguished

Yet I write

Partly to overcome these failings

But also

As a celebration of my past

My memories

My good times

Which you can’t possibly share

Yet you might have empathy

For aren’t we all, a little

Clumsy, awkward

Undistinguishable

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Calendar Research

Bright, seriously bright

Winter sunlight

That might set fire

To the dried leaves

If they weren’t so frosty

And of course

The son does cherish my soul

As I hope also for you

On this early December morning

The second Thursday as it happens

What kind of business would it be

If we could not lift ourselves

Out of the doubt of darkness

Into the sprinkled sunshine

Of a day to imagine

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Studious

The radiators

Each one

Warm

At its selected time

Such is the wonder

Of automation

Fuzzy logic

And Nyquist diagrams

Lest I forget

Machine code

And Basic

As my way of life

I did learn

And understand

I did apply

Negative feedback

Was I in control

I wouldn’t say so

And neither would you

In contemporaneous accounts

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Changeable

There is a frost

In my garden

But also

In your life

How can I

A simple chap

Learn to thaw

In this moment

Or those other times

When I brought

The low temperatures

Into our life

Quite a conundrum

Don’t you think

Trying to be here and now

In the then and there

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Xit

Rain and sun

And blue-black sky

Turn onto the new lane

On your way to the new road

We will drift apart

It is inevitable

How many nights of appassionato can sustain us

How many did before

A cold spell is on the way

What preparations should I make

What will you have in mind

Perhaps for suggestions

Will we drift apart

Is it inevitable

How many days of commonwealth can maintain us

How many did before

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