Mon Plaisir

Out of Mind

I often return

The house

The lane

The road

The esplanade

The sands

The sea

Undressing

My mind

Step by step

Door by door

Doubt by doubt

Into the present

Out of the past

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Gallops

The body aches

Yet it is the red light

Which stops the motion

In this time

Of deep fakes

I feel authentic

Out we go

With the horses

For all our sakes

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Treasure Hunts

If and only if

After visiting

Those places

Once again

From childhood

From vacations

From joyful times

And contemplations

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Deflected Reflections

She lifted

We raised together

However

She travelled further

I twisted

We turned forever

Nevertheless

I tried always to impress

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In The Way

Last summer

The conifer had to go

Its very presence

Was affecting the growth

Of a much prettier tree

Why oh why

Where they ever placed

So close together

Now I notice

In January

That the pretty tree

Itself has been trimmed

Several times before

Why oh why

Did they have to fight

For the same space

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Further Out

Think that thought

You know it can be done

Think the unthinkable

Although do know this

The unthinkable thought

Cannot be thought

Float on a cloud

Think

To experience and explain

The sensation

The weight

The colours

The observations

Swim

The unswimable mile

Thinking all the while

I can do this

I will do this

I can

And I will

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Extrapolations

I for one

Think of breakfast

Sat alone often

Although returning

Many times

To many places

To think

Similar thoughts

Of past

And potential

Futures

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Relax, Refresh

Walking

To the café

Alone

In the country

Many places

Tourist traps

As well as on salt marshes

I think of you

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fMRI

Nowhere else to go

We recognise the shapes

Circle square rectangle dot

What more then to show

We wear the capes

Mountain sea river spot

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Call to Arms

Half a circle

Or a crescent

With a focal point

For the silence

And the speaker

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Beautiful Countryside

There is a tree

I wish to find

Which I last climbed

In Nineteen-Sixty-Three

The end of the fool

I passed the Eleven-plus

Travelled by Baddeley’s bus

To Penistone Grammar School

It was a time of fear

Innocence was raised

Nightmares invaded

Eyes and mind once so clear

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Afterword

What more to say?

It has been a pleasure

Yes that’s the rub of it.

The Two Of Us

If my son

Could be fishing here

He’d think his day had come

With thoughts of the low pass weir

And you my friendly reed

How is it for you to zoom

On this balmy, sunshine indeed

August afternoon

What is that throttled whistling bird

Not too too far away

Yes it was the shrill that I heard

But hey, you have your own style of play

Of all the women who I have known

One would like this place the best

With a poem her love would come to own

Unlike the dream scales of the rest

Perhaps we would lie

Upon the circular benches

Effortless, no need to try

Steadied by our lover’s senses