If It Wasn't For The Stars

If it wasn’t for the stars
And the late night city bars
My guess is
We never would have made it

If it wasn’t for your faraway gaze
In the back seat of those old stingrays
My guess is
We never would have made it

Jeune fille from La Rochelle
You drove me close to, well
Let’s say I was driven
You talked, I listened
We faced into the breeze
Such times to be at ease

If it wasn’t for the stars
And the late night city bars
My guess is
We never would have made it

If it wasn’t for your faraway gaze
In the back seat of those old stingrays
My guess is
We never would have made it
My guess is
We never would have made it

Jeune femme from Bordeaux
Who danced away, heavenly so
I was laconic in your arms
My sonic boom raised no alarm
We faced the open seas
Yes I begged you, yes please

If it wasn’t for the stars
And the late night city bars
My guess is
We never would have made it

If it wasn’t for your faraway gaze
In the back seat of those old stingrays
My guess is
We never would have made it

Joven señora from Bilbao
Your conversation, never slow
Such inspired invitations
Beauty offered by deliberation
We strolled to the Guggenheim
With you close, I said pray be mine

If it wasn’t for the stars
And the late night city bars
My guess is
We never would have made it

If it wasn’t for your faraway gaze
In the back seat of those old stingrays
My guess is
We never would have made it

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COTP

In the doorway

Down the hall

Great expectation

Of the call

Paint a picture

Of a hill

Take exception

Stand quite still

For the doorway

To the cill

Frames the picture

Of life distilled

Now you are home

Home at last

No more city life

No more living fast

Take your time

Take it slow

Find the line

In those you know

For the home

To the slow

Settles the sign

You began to show

In the country

On the moor

Beside the river

Refreshed, assured

Take your camera

Steady the shot

Gather the light

Believe what is not

For the country

To the crop

Serves the camera

Gives up the plot

Now you are someone

Youthful and creative

Testing yourself

Deeply investigative

Look far beyond

Yet closer too

Search for shelters

Which extrapolate you

For the someone

That's living too

Lays just beyond

Your innocent view

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Tour

There is a corner
At the top of the hill
It heads on out
Towards the jet-stream

There is an escape lane, with
Police enforcement cameras
Here am I
Beneath a mist, that clings

To the sides of the valley
Where the river flows
Cold and clear and cold
And clear and rippling

Through glacial formations;
Ice-slides that fashioned
Plateaus, terraces, ravines,
And first rate accommodation

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The Slopes

Why go back
On this day of sun
Give your thoughts
Freedom to run

A walk in the park
Over shade of leaf
In that instant, all of
Life, listened beneath

The ringing stops
Silence enters the fray
Tis a wondrous thing
This peaceful day

I don’t know how
In the passage of time
These magical moments
Have occasion to chime

But so they do
And for that I smile
To think of my mother
And her grateful child

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Nero

I take the window seat
Why wouldn't I
It is the street
Distant, cold, and thin

To touch the soul
It is why I write
People watching;
Passing smiles, engaging grins

Years ago, years passed by
The class of two thousand and five
It was a way back to life
Drinking beer, and slipping gin

Van Morrison is on the radio
I remember the lyrics that I wrote
It was my own sat alone Scandinavia
Before the daily threat of insulin

Time to say, funny old life
Recognition of visited places
It is the treat
Instant, warm, let’s begin

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