Brief Encounter

Another, yet another new book
Bought from the remainder bookshop
The waitress asks “is it a good book”

I tell her I run creative writing workshops
She says she studies poetry at university
We both, so it seems, enjoy reading

I tell her that this book, by Orhan Pamuk
Is about how we feel when we write novels
And yes, that the first chapter is brilliant

“I must remember that” she says
She puts my sandwich onto the table
And skips off down the stairs; I smile

Available on Kindle

Catch

We talked about yoga
Weight training, and marines
He told me about photography

The holy trinity;
Of exposure, shutter speed
And one other, which I forget

We explored the technicalities
Of our common ground, he
Had just split with his girlfriend

We were not, neither of us
New age travellers, yet he
Showed interest in my meditation

I talked about the Buddhists
Transcendentalists, and the mindfulness
He was vulnerable, so easily hooked

Available on Kindle

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