White light, clear evening

Always forwards with preparation

Except this time to give chance its chance

Unexpected, the floodlit clock tower

The touch of hand on hand

In such a rush to build a past

To look forwards, to look out, for

Flashbacks of the future, memory of now

Wait; spare a moment from the cobwebs

Feel skin pressed hard against skin

Teeth bite hard into necks

Sink into softer navels

Bodies clenched tight

For fear of misunderstanding

Risk all

But do not call it desperation

Tall towers …longer views

Taken from the collection Words in Aspect South Facing - Available from Amazon for Kindle

Bounded

Even asleep the heat overwhelms to wake

With perspired skin; here still the prisoner

On the final journey, a courtesan about to fly

A writer to hold the broken lead one last time

Outdoors it is marginally cooler

The draught floats through the open door

Into the courtyard, into the library

Across the road from Grand Central Station

Backalong, in bars and sherbet fountains

We were glad; expectant in high summer

Mad with excitement, pretty dresses

Long legs, friendship, gaiety was all around

Surrounded life closed in & leaves fell

Four seasons, the reason for the winter

Taken from the collection Words in Aspect South Facing - Available from Amazon for Kindle

Grasp

So soft and still the irony

Times pasture’s thrill I mean

Rosebuds then tulips

Corn on the cusp

On the turn from green

Youth was never ever lasting

Passed there in between

Here and now and casting

For the love I need to seem

Stickleback  and tickled trout

The hay loft and the stream

Quiet, quintessentially without

The shout of silent lest I mean

That no one knows, or enquires 

Of what I gleam

Taken from the collection Words in Aspect South Facing - Available from Amazon for Kindle

Not even frustrated

Downbeat town

Otherwise known as Beirut

Cap and gown frowned

Otherwise known as shoot on sight

Noise

A racket or unjust interference

The down of depression

Is killingly real

Deadbeats, downbeats & druggies

Half life’s and those less hopeful

A bigger question needs a bigger picture

Wiser than government

Inexplicable to the ordinary man

Caught here among the crossfire 

I though don’t feel it

No chance that I can say it

No way for me to contribute to change

This is not a poem

It’s not even coherent

What or why is all that’s left

Undone, hopeless

Nothing

Out of however many

You might wish to score it

Taken from the collection Words in Aspect South Facing - Available from Amazon for Kindle

Floppy hat, flowered trousers and a ladder

Afternoon

In East England

Lincolnshire, or any other

Back water

Out

In deep & quiet country

A farmyard, a pasture

Or any other roadside stables

Old patient

Younger nurse

A driver without distinction

Or any other clues yet due

Except

College together at Oxford

And

That they spoke so very well

Taken from the collection Words in Aspect South Facing - Available from Amazon for Kindle