The long and the short of a part of my life Volume 1 Page 3

You give me the time

Time to sit

Or lay

Time to breathe

Or gaze

Time to write

Grant you

The peace

Inside & outside

The window

Windows darken

Skies close

To naught but absence

Matisse draws the evening to a close

Bright sunshine

Mild frost

Rabbits in the field

Mist rises over the pond

Sweet damp grass

Fresh dew of the morning

Blueberries, yoghurt, muesli

Hot buttered toast

Mist drawn away

Blue sky reaches unbroken to the horizon

Trees appear at the head of the field

Am I to be

Any less troubled

Or how to stay calm

When friction is obvious

Strongly felt

Sunlight through my window

Look, over the pond

Swifts in flight

Be dazzled by their skylight dance 

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The long and the short of a part of my life Volume 1 Page 2

Am I to tell

Of a late afternoon

Whose gift of joy

Was so swiftly taken

By the dark impounding clouds

Am I to bare my soul

Say that happiness fleetingly landed

But was unable to stay

Or gather to enrapture

Bare branches

Net curtains

Silver white sky

A painting by Mildred Bartee

Natures spring shadows

Hung on the alabaster wall

Blue sky

Jet stream

Rows of mountain bikes

Cigarette smoke wafts as

Smokers drift along the terrace

Still pond as reflector

Of the YKB above

As if by Magritte himself

Energetic birds

Sing and swoop

More delicate birds

Pick at the feeder

I eat seed with my breakfast

The plain white bowl

Sits on a painted table mat

A woodpecker

By an unknown artist

One whose royalties

Are sure to have expired

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The long and the short of a part of my life Volume 1 Page 1

Pull away
From fire and silver sunsets
Pull away
From ploughed and furrowed ground

Head towards
The clearer big skies
Head towards
The soft and gentle mound

Days
Days to dwell at the time of dusk
Days
Days to warm to the smell of musk

Sprays
Sprays at the core or windfall husk
Sprays
Sprays at the call for more childhood rusk

Sunlight
Sprinkled
Through the early summer leaves
Becoming of a variegated global motif

Blossom
Fallen with the falling rain
Becoming of a silken pink translucent emblem

Taken
Together
Parted
As ever

Time slips
Into dark
Time slips
I hear the lark


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Back (In Mind) Across The Irish Sea

He told me his wife was having an affair

He had taken some time out to stay with his sister, herself a recovering schizophrenic

With a dedication to The Mass that he admired, he admired her dedication greatly

Earlier, and the reason I am writing this, he told me he had seen the light

He was staring out to sea, on the cliffs of his hometown near Donegal

He had become at one with peace, he had found inner love (my words not his)

He said that if I wanted to find it I had to be prepared, I had to make myself ready

It would be hard work but it would be uniquely fulfilling

He sold me on his story, which also included only ever telling the truth, the truth as he saw it

This is the final poem, I hope you enjoyed the journey

From Christopher Sanderson's Ireland Poems
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Listen free on soundcloud here
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Read and download for free from ISSUU here

Return Ferry Cross The Irish Sea

How many more ideas might a man have that he hasn’t the time to write them all down

Moving across the horizon, speeding towards the mainland

Something about the paintings of John Miller’s seas

And his Cornish summer sandbars

From Christopher Sanderson's Ireland Poems
Read free in Ibooks on Itunes here
Listen free on soundcloud here
Watch free on youtube here
Read and download for free from ISSUU here