Don’t

Before the crescendo

Before the nightlight-doused

Songs and stories of sailors

Notes of notes, for notes

Patterns of preoccupations

Ploughed fields and the like

A desire to become foolish

Once more to act the clown

Only in defence of course

Neither guile nor indifference

To carry it off for real

Unsure enough for all that

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Faith Wrap

Into and out of the darkness

Only briefly to sidle up

To the edge-lines of paranoia

Still to search out beauty

In the scentless black tulip

Still to wonder on truth

In the words of named poets

Into, again into, into the pleasures

All hours to dream & daydream

On sounds of pianos and minarets

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Not Apart

Because of you I write
Heavens above I know
Warmth of your love
See, I smile, I glow

Words send their own fear
You give me space to show
Frightened again to throw
See, if in doubt I disappear

After another separated night
Both alone, alone as the crow
Say always to keep in touch
With love, one unto two bestow

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Past Present Echoes

All to hear

The ears ring

The wind blows

The pen scrapes the paper

The only connection

Is within

Within these words

Words only of our pasts

Our present futures

Where do they go to

My lovely

All to hear

The ears ring quietens

The wind blows louder

The pen pauses for breath

The only connection

Remains within

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Frozen Out

It is a low-cut Sunday

The newly slung autumn sun

Floods the stubble with its orange light

The fields, once fresh with crop

Are shorn; for the winter, for the plough

As lovers we slept

Under Egyptian cotton sheets

The dreams though, soon to be abridged

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