Of wider fortunes frown

Smile

Eyes of bigger fortunes

Trails blazed

In longer grass

Meanwhile

Cries of doubt are cast

Held now steady

Here in working class

Stiles

And cucumber sandwiches

Picnics, pitchers and jeroboams 

Of blackcurrant and lemonade

Meanwhile

Survivors of lives endured

Fair now ready

Where are their good times past

Trials…
Weights and tribulations
Of bigger nations
In times of famine or fast

Meanwhile
Those eyes
Of wider fortunes frown
In a round, sound & stronger glass



From the Collection I Suppose You could Call It Country, available on Kindle

I love you & I’m not sorry

I love you & I'm not sorry
I'm not sorry for the way I feel
I don't feel sorry for you, I'm in love
And love's the thing that’s real

Whatever happened happened
Whatever is past is past
It's not the you that’s dampened
It's not the you that’s cast

So let’s celebrate your ingenuity
Your tears to make us laugh
So let’s celebrate also incongruity
Your fears to chase the chaff

I love you & I'm not sorry
I'm not sorry for the way I feel
I don't feel sorry for you, I'm in love
And love's the thing we steal


From the Collection I Suppose You could Call It Country, available on Kindle

And so also for you and I

You smile
Into my open eyes
I defy anyone
Not to call you beauty

A golden mean
A ratio rule
Everything in proportion
Life
And all that she offers
In a skin sealed envelope
Posted with a smile

Any kind of music
Or sounds only of birdsong
Any time you choose
In bounds the light
In time
In tempo
In mood

In or about
To be with love
In or about to be
With love

You begin
With mist moist eyes
Surprised
By disingenuous guys
I lie beside you
I defy anyone
Not to call you beauty

Any or another imagination
Any soldier, any platform
Any station, any journey
Lovers they
Gaze to say goodbye
And so also for you and I
This morning

We gaze to say goodbye
To rush headlong
Towards our next meeting
To rush headlong
Towards our afternoon

For our journeys are local
Also further than the clouds
For our togetherness is total
Also further out
Beyond and proud

You sing
With an unsteady tremble
Soft female sounds
Permeate your grounds
I try & decide

To defy anyone
Not to call you beauty
I cry and softly
Politely
Defy anyone
Not to name you beauty


From the Collection I Suppose You could Call It Country, available on Kindle

Justice lies wandering

Angst
Amid the scream of anger
The pain

Of growing up
The pain of being or becoming
A grown up growing up

Always in the past
Shit
That fucking stuff

That brings regret
Stuff that opens
All those darkened doors

Too far away
And far too close
To see or feel the love

Tears
And misheard conversations
No words bring justice

Where justice lies wandering
And hope is left squandering
Or pushed away completely

Fight
Or flight in unselfish persecution
Of self at best

Unworthy except of blame, shame that
You ever entered
Through life’s wide open door

Cannot love
Ever be left like this
Ever like this be left

Instead the will of ordination
Fingers just touch on fingers
For this is far too early

Far too early
For a full on come on
Shoulder wrapped embrace

Dare
Of each and then of each other
Enter always the complicated situations

Engage your care
Back into those deep
Wide and furlong furrows

Leave space
Burrowed
With time

With gentleness

Of room for mistakes
And misappropriations
Conserve creation to cherish

This love too far away
And far too close
To see or even to be seen



From the Collection I Suppose You could Call It Country, available on Kindle

Bright side

Wide-open spaces
Rustle of a breeze
Through timeless grass
Birdsong
In flight
Above and out over
Downalong the meadow

Salt sands lay baking
Cracked earth
On barren beaches
Far reach
To past civilisations
Stationed
In retreat

Hillsides
Roll down
By wheat green grass
And corn

Not yet so high
O sigh for summer days
Summer days
Laid sideways such as these

Time
To reflect
To reconnect
With so many
Past
Beginnings
Forgiving
Living
Being alive

With skin
Our closest
Close
Companion
Here

Beside the
Whitest
Wild White Campion

Skin
Cradled around
Your finger
The ring of gold
Of
Past times
Last lines
Left to linger

Left
Bereft
Or bright side
Of many memories
Thoughts

Now to remember
On this quiet

There
Listen to the breeze
Listen
Through timeless grass



From the Collection I Suppose You could Call It Country, available on Kindle