By contact I mean a closeness, the sort of closeness that the word intertwined leads me towards; minds, bodies, souls, breath, intertwined, in contact; a closeness
Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
Wednesday, 17 April 2013
Tuesday, 16 April 2013
Clear of doubt our love is washed and offered fresh perspectives
Today we have the rain
Yet hardly a hint of breeze
And a silver grey
Seemingly cloudless sky
But it is true
We do have the rain
Free falling to splash on tin & tile
Calling us to stay indoors
Snuggle with a book
Listen to our favourite music
Watch the seals play
Make best of having a telescope
Feel the cool air on bare bodies
In preparation for a warm shower
He seeks out light
The light that we only see
On the painters canvas
In the photographers print
I seek out the sound
That we all might hear
Of raindrops on tin cans
From aeroplanes taking to the sky
In this way sight and sound are given back to us
The trickle of stream
The break in cloud
Our earthly atmospherics reflected
Monday, 15 April 2013
Birthright
On the day after warmth came to spring
& daffodils flowered, beside new mown grass
The young boy came into our lives
On an evening when sunlight streams
Through leafless trees, I look more closely
To see the sticky buds beginning to open
That he too might enjoy the birdsong
Among the peacefulness, both now
& also in his later years
That his parents may soon walk out with him
In the countryside; also play endlessly together
On the soft sands, by sparkling seas
That love should come our way
Is itself the miracle of life
for Tim, Emma and Thomas William
Continentals
You sit at your desk
We stand beside the stone
The gale tears away all doubt
No need for sages
We are among true believers
Barefoot warriors
Freed from their desks
Free to bless the stone
from The Hebrides - Water and Stone
Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on kindle by clicking the highlighted links
Friday, 12 April 2013
Dark and White
The word I chose is neat
Petite yet swell
It tells me I've told you
The rest can go to hell
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)