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Monday, 25 February 2019

Seventeen

Sat at the six-thirty table
Eating muesli with rye
Thinking of where to go next
Dreaming of bye and bye

Sat at the six-thirty table
Instant coffee by my side
Thinking of where to go next
Dreaming of bye and bye

Eyes look out into the distance
On their own bareback ride
Searching for some for instance
Some way to gather their pride

Eyes look out into the distance
Wondering of wind, of tide
Searching for some for instance
Some way to gather their pride

Hesitant steps are taken
Unsure in their self of making
Asking then where to go now
On their way to be forsaken

Hesitant steps are taken
Less certain now in the making
Asking then where to go now
On their way to be forsaken

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Sunday, 24 February 2019

Sixteen

Thus we savour
Thus we reflect
Thus we communicate
Thus we say thanks

All around the world
We wish each other well
All around the world
We ask each other how we are

To be totally honest
I really am no different
To be even more honest
I truly have no desire to be

I am up for love
I am open for love
Yes, I am most thankful
For those who love me

For those who carry love
In their hearts, in their souls
In their bodies, in their minds
In their very essences of being


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Saturday, 23 February 2019

Fifteen

A room
A bed
A light
A paper flower

A chair
A cushion
A carpet
A painting on the wall

A towel
A heater
A mirror
A set of deep drawers

A door
A lock
A hook
A bedside table

A mint chocolate, with compliments


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Friday, 22 February 2019

Fourteen

In this world of smoke and mirrors
In this mind of self-deceit
Let me receive my comeuppance
Lend me tuppence for the cheek

In this room of light, of shadow
In this mind of grateful conceit
Let me suffer for compassion
Send my rations to the street

In this remnant of a calmness
In this mind of the minuscule feat
Let me transform by forgiveness
Blend the richness with the neat

In this collective of unconscious
In this mind of future distant beat
Let me anchor with my mantra
Mend the tantric, astride the leaf

In this struggle of no ending
In this mind of pre-cast concrete
Let me disturb me from my seat
Fend off to meet the however weak


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Thursday, 21 February 2019

Thirteen

The Bow room is quiet
With only one door
To keep an eye on
Yet
With four windows
To escape through

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