Sense

I hear the sheep

I smell the morning grass

I feel the wind

I smile at the sunrise

Beginning The Work

I watch a web being woven

It’s a steady start to the day

The dew on the grass glistens

As I listen to the geese

Fly low over the water

On the opposite hillside

Sheep move orderly

From one field into the other

In the meditation room

There is a breeze to my shoulder

Outside a wind rustles through the leaves

Eyes moving along the horizon

From the dark of night

To the bright light of day

The trees begin as pitch, pitch-black

Gradually turning, or developing

Into a quite brilliant late summer’s green

Settling In

Moon

Above the field

Moon

Above the river

Field

Upon the hill

River

Around the bend

Arrival

Overnight

At Gloucester Docks

After afternoon in the sun

At SWFC

Now

In the four-poster room

Looking out

To sheep on the hillside

Outside, below the tall windows

The noise of conversation

Silence begins

At nine pm

Then

To wake to the sound

Of the ringing bell

Before Qigong on the lawn

Bar

A pair of blow torches

Signed by Veritas

Well worn chair cushions

Bearing the name Pro Bono

A glass of hand pulled beer

Black Sheep back by customer’s request

Time ticks, and takes away the minutes

Before the ringing of the bell

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Echo

Red Star of Belgrade

Sporting Lisbon

River Plate

Partisan Belgrade

Ageless wisdom timeless love

Metro lands, metropolis

Let me take your ticket

Let me take your bag

Empty stadiums

Changed civilisations

Breathe on my lips

Be my first kiss

Red Star or Partisan

Once for innocent youth

Now adrift of the beautiful game

Now adrift of the wonderful life

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Narcissism

I write of you

I think of me

I see you

I see another side of me

I talk of the reflection in your eyes

What is it there that I see

I talk of your words whispered to me

What is it there that I hear

In the distance of my imagination

What there am I to imagine

In the first instance of my fascination

Why then am I so facile

In the beauty of you beside me

I gather a smile

I think of you

I write of me

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Water and wind

Over a bridge

Of still tumbling water

Over the sea

Of tipsy topsy tranquillity

Clouds on horizons

Of beautiful visions

Shrouds in the sky

Try their best to fly

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Quiet

On the edge of everyday beauty

Seen through the tree at the end of its leaf

See your smile, an endless beauty

On your face; here for all of time in sans serif

Blues and greys and golden silvers

A backcloth to the silhouettes of youth

Back again in bud by springtime

The bloom of you in boundless truth

Still the skies on Monday mornings

Factories have died to far off plans

Arise my man in deep mid winter

Think again of summer’s strands

See your smile, still in wonder

Games to play with strings and band

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Spring tides

Lover's talk of love at midnight

A far off hope of golden sand

Hand in hand in love at midnight

The golden talk of soft blown land

Stroke the neck nape in the moonlight

Walk on by the gold brass band

Soft skins touched by all by moonlight

Hand in hand on bandstand land

Lover's hope of snow capped mountains

Of plains and deserts themselves to stand

Hand in hand there by the fountain

With their dreams immense and grand

Stroke the clock

On past the midnight’s glow

In the silver moonlit mountains

Shadowlands so so seldom show

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Acoustic

Confined to words on polished paper

Inclined the statement then to fake her

Any words, about any trees

Anything to think of me

A new rose in late December

The frost froze back a week or two

The parcel post and letters lent her

A short respite from nothing new

Fingers pick the stringed guitars

Fingers which don't reach to the stars

A new quiet then to fend her skin

From the embers of her tethered din

Inclined to find a hill top turning

Horizons prised from treeless leaves

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Gift of place

Bird box in the tree

Bird box in the tree

Can you see

To the deep inside of me

Can you see

Here, deep inside of me

Gravel in the yard

Gravel in the yard

Stand up straight and true

So so hard

To stand up, stay straight and true

It is so so very hard

Time ticks on the clock

Time, don't you ever stop

Bird box in the tree

Gravel in the yard

Time ticks on the clock

It is so so very hard

Time ticks on the clock

Time, don't you ever stop

Bird box in the yard

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