BBB Poem 36

The stillness of the early morning
As seen over the corner of the roof
Of next doors bungalow

It is still because it is early
It is early because I woke early
Not though to see the stillness

Nor particularly to listen to
Tallulah Bankhead, reading Dorothy
Parker’s poem Telephone Call

O what a performance
O what a performance
O how early in the morning

Awake as the light broke
As the darkness gifted the day
As the day took over

And said to me
Look at the roses
Look at the garden, which is still

It is still, because that is how days do begin
Days begin that way because I wake early
I wake early because how else

To catch the stillness
To feel the stillness
To record the stillness

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BBB Poem 35

I saw images
Call them visualisations if you will
Indescribable objectivity
Shrouded in mists
With several layers of substance, and shadows
A monochrome display
Yet with tone
Yes with lots of tones
Tones to set the spirits dancing
Tones to bring the meditation to life

A meditation on love
A meditation on breathing
A meditation on those most important words
I am here for you my love
Darling, I am here for you now
I was in the present moment
The suns heat warmed my painful shoulder
I was sat before the thriving plum tree
Which I had rescued a few winters past
Whose fruit was now coming to fruition

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BBB Poem 34

He did not mean to complain
In point of fact he did not complain
He simply made an accurate observation
However, his life was a life lived in pain
And so it was not unnatural
For his first thoughts to be thoughts of pain

In that idyll, in that peaceful village
His home, for many a year now
And hers too, for only a few years less
A togetherness of life, of a life lived together
Yet all the while his limitations limited
His adventures, his day by day adventures

The doctor called by, but now travels widely
His friend, and her partner, had called by
But they had not returned, not yet returned
Which he was sure they had promised to do
But of course they led very busy lives
With families, friends, and circles of society

He did not mean to sound bitter
In point of fact he did not sound bitter
He was matter of fact, straight to the point
However his life had minimal visitations
And so it was not at all surprising
For his first thoughts to be of a relaxant

With easement, in this place of inhaled calm
His passage, his journey was partly fulfilled
And hers too, to see him freed from suffering
This was, a thought out, measurement of life
A considered measurement, made together
Because always their minds remained creative

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BBB Poem 33

I bring my own sounds
To counteract the hammer, to overwhelm
The nails, the hedge trimmer, the rolling along
Of the waste collection bins

I bring Bubbling Spring
To enhance the jazz
Of suburban urban living
I ask focussed noise, to disperse random noise

And now the industrial scale
Garden vacuum machine is set to work
Picking up, or blowing away
All of the fallen foliage of the summer

Would that I could build
A super-strength sound insular summer house
Or an equally peaceful meditation chapel
O would that I could do so many things

For a moment there the breeze took hold
Ruffled the hair over my forehead
Cleared away a cloud; the light came through
Gave me my very own patch of peace

My daughter messaged; could she stay over
Bring my two grandchildren for the weekend
Before the bank holiday; if the weather is
Promising, maybe we could go to Cleethorpes!

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BBB Poem 32

The love was too strong
It hid all the sufferances
The love went on too long
It followed the circumferences

Why would I write that
Why would I construct
Or record these utterances

Why would I want you to know
The chances that I'd taken
The hopes and the undulations

The love was too tough
It bid all the challenges
The love became too rough
It wallowed in the imbalances

Why would I write to you
Why would I deduct
Or inform the dalliances

Why would I share this
The images that were torn
As I stripped back the valances

The love was real
It undid all the differences
The love was to feel
To re-open the sufferances

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