Ingrained Years

Yesterday I thought your face
Appeared mildly oriental
I so wanted to tell you
But could not choose the words
After you said your face felt tired
I should have taken a photograph
To better explain myself
Perhaps you will look vaguely similar
On our next weekend together

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Cool

I sit by the window
In your small armchair
It is cooler here

The slight chill
Through the thin glass
Acts as a counterbalance

To the well-stoked wood-burner
Which keeps the body of the room
Good and warm, roasting some might say

I am meditating
All seemed quiet
But the contemplation
Allows for many sounds

Next doors dog
Is repeatedly disturbed
By the passing traffic

He yelps
Then barks again
Just so that I may be aware

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After You Had Gone

You are travelling
I am writing
We are lovers
Caring for the love
That which we are sharing

We have memories
And acquired mementoes
These are sketches
Of times past and future

You are tender
I try with humour
We are together
Caring for the other
That which we are loving

We have good times
And we have better times
These are the daydreams
Of times extrapolated

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Certain Uncertainties

I was at the Open University
On an out of town campus
I was answering an examination question
It was a four-part question

The individual sections did not make any sense
Not on their own at any rate
Only when read together did they combine
Into a coherent body, beckoning a clear response

We had been split into two groups
I went off in search of the other group
I was directed towards a single story
Prefabricated building - The Physics Block

There were signs that people had been there
But there was no one there now
Neither in the classrooms nor the laboratories
I went back, and began answering the question

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Outlines, Procedures, And Timescales

It was just like the old days
I was planning
I was making lots of plans
I was working out all sorts of plans
Yet my day ahead was empty
My day before me was free
To do with as I wished
I had no need to plan
I had nothing to plan
Nothing at all

So I changed tack
I planned to become a better person
I planned to be more caring, more loving
I planned to improve my health
Both now and in the future
I planned to be more outgoing
To be less of a recluse
I planned to be more conscientious
To work harder at my writing
Yet I knew there would be difficulties
There would be many failures

So I planned to meditate
I planned to take up a mantra
To sit quietly
Morning and night
I planned to let my thoughts
Come and go just as they wished
I planned to have a settled period
At the end of every meditation
I planned to share my love of meditation
To begin groups and associations
I planned to be a good meditator
Then I heard the bell chime for breakfast

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