Why be here
Why be drawn
To reflect on that time
Of thirteen years ago
Except that
That you believe that that time
Changed you
Took away some of your angst
They let you talk, let you play
Let you become someone
Who for so so long
You had forgotten to be
Thursday, 20 September 2018
Wednesday, 19 September 2018
Trappist
Cool cool water
Seasonal salad
Mother and daughter
With an Irish ballad
Through black Black Mountain
To pools so still
A spider in the fountain
The end of your rill
Out through the window
On the lightest of breezes
Lay your love low
Take care of the creases
Seasonal salad
Mother and daughter
With an Irish ballad
Through black Black Mountain
To pools so still
A spider in the fountain
The end of your rill
Out through the window
On the lightest of breezes
Lay your love low
Take care of the creases
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| Available in Print or Kindle Click here or on Image |
Tuesday, 18 September 2018
Stitching Detector
At the halfway point
Of Section One
The thinning line
In the weakest font
As if the rage does burn
When the one door closes
At the turn of the tide
Bless the blight of the roses
Still I go, slow and sure
Into the deeper obsession
Trapped; so wild, so pure
Without doubt, or oppression
Of Section One
The thinning line
In the weakest font
As if the rage does burn
When the one door closes
At the turn of the tide
Bless the blight of the roses
Still I go, slow and sure
Into the deeper obsession
Trapped; so wild, so pure
Without doubt, or oppression
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| Available in Print or Kindle Click here or on Image |
Monday, 17 September 2018
Dining Room (Nearby)
The noise picks up
As lunchtime begins
The gong surely sounds
For the love you bring
The queues slowly shuffle
As the trolleys pass by
Conversations start to rustle
As the poets quietly sigh
And still you avoid
The everyday invitation
Your words without shape
Are hurtful to creation
As lunchtime begins
The gong surely sounds
For the love you bring
The queues slowly shuffle
As the trolleys pass by
Conversations start to rustle
As the poets quietly sigh
And still you avoid
The everyday invitation
Your words without shape
Are hurtful to creation
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| Available in Print or Kindle Click here or on Image |
Sunday, 16 September 2018
Common Room
French conversation
Overheard somewhere near
Did I ever doubt
That you knew I would be here
Rag laid, oranges and creams
With sculptures too
How easily you do settle
In anywhere remotely new
White clouds float by
Across those skies of blue
There is no longer any fear
As I write these words for you
Overheard somewhere near
Did I ever doubt
That you knew I would be here
Rag laid, oranges and creams
With sculptures too
How easily you do settle
In anywhere remotely new
White clouds float by
Across those skies of blue
There is no longer any fear
As I write these words for you
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| Available in Print or Kindle Click here or on Image |
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