Dusted Reflection

I know that you know that I know
That they are only flowers in a vase
Reflected in the dusty glass
Of the wood-burner

You know that I know that you know
That we don't light fires in April
Although it Sometime Snows in April
If you remember from the song or the film

Here now laying on the Axminster & Wilton
To take the matching photograph
I am limited then limited again
By what little my eyes see

We know you and I we know don't we
That there is more to this scene
Than flowers (carnations) in a vase
Reflected in glass which needs cleaning

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Window Light

Smoke from the chimney
Blossom in the breeze
Three thousand plus mornings
Sometimes light sometimes dark
And sometimes like today with sunlight
The blue sky the fluffy white clouds
The treetops swirling and dancing

And footsteps on the floorboards
Of the bedrooms up above
And the sharp shadows caused
By sunbeams calling yes calling out
For the summer of love
To see again the days of Purple Rain
To hear again the doves
To listen When Doves Cry

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I Go There

I go there to go there
I go there to shake and to shiver
I go there to become emotional
I go there to ask the tears to flow

I go there alone
I go there to meet you
I go there to take you with me
I go there so as not to be alone

I go there to let the music move me
I go there for nature's beauty to breathe over me
I go there into the darkness into the light
I go there into the silence into the rumblings

I go there with my eyes wide open
I go there with my eyes firmly closed
I go there with my heart heavily beating
I go there knowing that nobody knows

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Recital III

I am what I am
Not what I often say I am
You can hear it in the timbre shaking

I can do what I can do
Not what I sometimes say I can
You can hear it in the words wobbling

I go on in the search of self
Not what I maybe care to call myself
You can see that in the superficiality

I don't go where I ought to go
Not where I somehow feel I ought to go
You can see it in the conceit of self-deceit

I want you to know
Your kind words helped me to more than know
I am what I am

I just need
To find the way of the certainty
To discover how to show it

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Recital II

You said
You've got a great voice for poetry
I wondered
Was it the drink which inspired me

You sang and played guitar
Everyone applauded
All night
Everyone applauded

I was ill the next day
Quite some hangover I should say
Yet a small price to pay
For having spoken publicly

I did not have a plan
I had done no rehearsal
Other than the twenty-seven years of writing
With the occasional voice recording

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