Early days

Frozen windscreen, warm bed, car radio

I think of you

Gentleness, kindness, generosity, beauty

With such words

You take your time to bind me

As I think of you

Fog settles in the valleys, fog drifts on the hilltops

The engine purrs

Regular, synchronised, good timing, efficient

The automotive elixir

Takes the road from under my feet

I drift and I dream

Warm bed, soft pillars, waiting for daybreak

I think of you

Secure, calm, tactile, serene, vivacious

With these such words

You are bound beside me

As I think of you

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Movement and Tariff

Settle into the slow boat

Under stone arch bridges

Cobbled and rutted

Slide over the aqua-duct

Standing on the shoulders

Of giants

Yesterday's men

Today's

Fared fortunes

Settle into the fast lane

Under reinforced concrete

Signed and directed

Shuffle over the suspension bridge

Hung by the coiled towers

Of hope

Yesterday's men

Today's

Shared fortunes

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Rustic

Robert writes in red and green

Wishing me good luck

Kathleen

Is excited, it is such a beautiful card

Roast chestnuts, with slow warmed

Meadow Bay mulled wine

Candles flicker, heavenly scented

With the groves of lemon zest

Peter writes in brown and blue

Wishing me good fortune

Rosie too

Is excited, it tis aglow with love

Toasted marshmallows

Fruit cake with marzipan

I do believe

It is the seasons greetings

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Ting

Geese in flight

Against the winds

Over the Kingdom Of Bhutan

Up yonder where the bells

Turn on a vertical axis

Where prayers are a physical exercise

Where the snow turns overnight

Into deep frozen ice

Geese in flight into the headwind

Over the base camps laden with foot soldiers

Finger cymbal meditation exercises

Followed by Tibetan treacle tart

Always searching for the best

Of the cholesterol

Up beyond the skyline

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Trucker

What is to be done

Always there is something

Some song to be sung

A wish to buy a diamond ring

What if I say I love you

Always and forever

Some tremble to blue

Light as an ostrich feather

What is to be done

Always my mother called me

There's coal in the scuttle son

Carved names on the sycamore tree

What if I say I love you

Never, not now, nor ever

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Frozen out

Fear of forgotten ambitions ever coming true

Twisted hawthorns and country lanes

Flooded with the autumn rains

The mud underfoot, rivers of silt and sand

In deep embedded migration

My dear, I tried to have something to say

Except that which I had forgotten

I lost my way in the heatwave

The passages of corporate governance

Missed perchance connections

Angry, I stumbled over in anger

Outside the still sky turns grey

The light moves right across the equator

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Being you

You fuck them up

Your mum and dad

Split their arguments

Exactly how it suits you

Innocent, that you never were

And now in league with deceit

You trick and trap

Their every twist and turn

Burn the baby photographs

You've turned into a monster

Learnt how to mingle

With the single parents

You've put your folks on that black, back-foot

Ever on their guard to love each other

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Midway

Moss grows on the lean-to shed roof

The singer sings of soft red roses

The guitar player picks away at the weeds

Stillness stands all about, through to the horizon

Another day without a wind; smoke clouds

Postcards on the mat, waiting by the door

Would love have walked any gentler way

With apple crumble and clotted cream

A smile deepened with each return

Unsteady for a few moments

Eyes back into the landscape

Plans laid out by Capability Brown

One step and then one other

Taken with a tremble into the cool breeze

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Inter-denominational traditions

A logo

On the plastic wheel trim

A crack

In the kerbstone

Flowers, turned and twisted

Tied with a ribbon

Of silkened, string-tie paper

Emblazoned with razor cut skin

Forbearance of the ever after

Two name tags

On black and white traffolyte

Screwed to wooden slats

An upright beech tree, trained

With precision, reaches for the sky

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