Room To Breathe

Those were the days of miracle, and wonder

It has taken these eight years past
To build up the bank of memories
Such that our new construction
Might weather the old storms

Each morning
The floorboards are brushed
Dust swept from the corners
Fluff moved from low shadows

Each evening
Sat beside the warm fire
Books are opened onto
Pages of modernist thought

The homestead sings out
With soft prayers, and meditations
The table is set, and served
With traditional country fayre

These are the days of miracles, and wonders

Available on Kindle

Free Wheel

Beneath the trees
To Cromford Mill
Leaves have fallen
Yet still I sway
To lover’s sounds
Down Morrison’s
Lane, the pain, and joy
Of autumn’s gold
My ploy is near
And bold of touch
Fear not, to speak
Of much ado
About nothing; love
It’s far too far away
To sing in, and out
Of time, pray
That we will find
Our own bright
Mullioned window
Bill me now, it is
So close, shows go
On, to the rose
And trellis, thereby
To embellish the breeze
At Cromford Mill

Available on Kindle

High Peak Road

It is the top of my world
With light cast from the heavens
It is as if the breath
Of all the girls I’ve ever known

It is the field for stock, and harvest
With stone walls for the ravens
It is as if for the death
Of all the failings I’ve ever shown

The Jug and Chase
With cars that pass
At fifty miles an hour

The leaning grass
With dew so fast
It holds in the showers

It is the top of my world
With time for the lonely
It is as if all of the hopes
For one of those girls on my own

It is the meadow for dreaming
Daydreams of the one, and only
It is as if the ropes break
From all the ties I’ve ever known

Available on Kindle

Café, Bench, And Farmer

Dark, and light
And many fields of cows
Black, and white
And many far away horizons

Hill, and dale
And many stone built walls
Cakes, and ale
And many bicycles on the byway

“I now have the time to stand and stare”

Psalm, and prayer
And many wondering hows
Quarry, and slayer
And many what he relied on

Cottage, and farm
And many of natures calls
Wrist, and forearm
And ample time to look sideways

Available on Kindle

Teacher

In that search
For heart, and mind, and soul
I had within me
Some certainty
Some doubt
Some confusion

I settled on
The heart being where the seed of the poetry arises
The mind being where I rummage to find a context
The soul being where lies what I choose to leave behind

In this conclusion
Of heart, and mind, and soul
I have been given
The will for absolute life
The will for absolute love
The will for absolute inspiration

Available on Kindle