Playful petal
As if you were my own
Beautiful flower of autumn
Yes, I know that sometimes
You do have to let lovers go
Yet always, you might dream
Of what may have happened
If they had stayed
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
Tuesday, 9 July 2013
Monday, 8 July 2013
Master & Boy
The young boy mimics his masters rowing
The old man walks slowly and closes the gate
The young boy goes alone in the boat, to the shore
He chases butterflies & snakes, on the terra-firma
Sunday, 7 July 2013
Spring
A creaking door opens
Birds chirp
A solitary eastern cabin
Placed on an island platform
In the middle of a lake
Strings of bells chime quietly
The teacher yells at the young boy
It is time to get up, time
To sweep clean the boardwalk
Before they jump into the rowing boat
Birds chirp
A solitary eastern cabin
Placed on an island platform
In the middle of a lake
Strings of bells chime quietly
The teacher yells at the young boy
It is time to get up, time
To sweep clean the boardwalk
Before they jump into the rowing boat
from
Looking Up The Hill :: Love To Make You Stand Back
Saturday, 6 July 2013
Friday, 5 July 2013
One
Long lonely corridor
Trolley pushed
On cast iron wheels
Daily ritual
To feed
The seekers of peace
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