Recovery

Many miles
And several counties
You, there in the North
Pouring over my heritage
And me, here in the West
Learning to be more than I am

Moonlight, rainstorms
Fast clouds in the sky
Is it the same for you
At The Alhambra
Is it the same for me
In The Bothy

Morning now
Yesterday’s hairdresser
Did I ever tell you
Her story
Did it really happen
To me

Several counties
And many miles
You, returning East
Over my hillsides
And me, returning North
Through your valleys

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Race Day

Beside the canal

Settled, and still

Off at a tangent

To chase the rill

Fields of beet

Ploughed, and pickled

Beside the houses

Where gamblers trickled

Wires for lights, as dusk 

Falls on railway bridges

Transformed transmissions

For those gay-girls in stitches

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Postlip

The thin clouds, slide
At a real pace, across
The nights full moon

The flames, from the
Log fire, flicker, and glow
And again flicker, and glow

The music is of the East
Filled with evocations
Memories of lazy old love

The morning clock ticks
Slowly, and deliberately, looking
Down on the unlit table lamp

The light outside is breaking
Out of those depths of undiluted
Darkness that were clear, clear space

The kettle boils, it is time
For the first cup of tea of the day
Also to write, about past pleasantries

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Pine

Such sadness sleeps
I take a leaf
Place them one by one
In the quiet corner
You wouldn’t know
I couldn’t make it so
Through the corridor
Of late autumn’s trees

Then I turned to dance
Why not take a chance
Romance has always
Served me so well
Curved bare heads
Out in the reaches
Feel the rainfall
Flood the breaches

I hear the song
I read the lyric book
I hang on, to all those
Hooks you ever gave me
It was a time
Way beyond the sublime
A time so kind
Even now it’s on my mind

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Only Between

Only when I have nothing do I search for nothing
Only when I have love do I search for love

Only when I have nothing do I find nothing
Only when I have love do I find love

Only when I have nothing do I lose nothing
Only when I have love do I lose love

Between the searching, the finding, and the losing
We move in, and out of the nothingness

Between the searching, the finding, and the losing
We move in, and out of the loving

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