Describe

The rug is blue
With a wide orange border

Part in shadow
Part in bright sunlight

The two settees
And three armchairs

Are placed with their backs
Against the common room walls

The floor is wooden
A long way from its best

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Knowledge

Will I know more
By Sunday lunchtime
Will I know more
By looking back at these notes

Will I have captured
The stillness, the breeze
The beauty, the love
The altogether me, just being

And what of those
Who were here before
Where are they now
What became of those poets

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Four Walls

Are these the trappings
A room to oneself
In the middle of the day

A room with French windows
Overlooking a garden
With birdsong and roses

I am also conscious
That I could have painted
The canvasses on these walls

I am though less conscious
Of my purpose; or of
What it is, which draws me here

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Love

There was a table
Now there is no table
Was there a water feature
There is one now
But unkempt, and overgrown

There was laughter
Most supportive
And much appreciated

There were children
Playing hide and seek
Also other games too
Which they had invented
All by themselves

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Change Has Occurred

This time will be different
For now you don’t know
What you bring with you

You don’t know what you seek
Or how you might seek it
Except that contemplation

Yes, contemplating, meditating
That might help, and yes
The writing is a good contribution

So simply to be aware
To take notes, to write down
All of the possibilities

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