It wouldn’t do
To rewrite here the shorter poems
They will have a separate volume
Presently I sit on a chair
Sculpted
From a single piece of wood
Such satisfaction for the carver
The shaper, the sander
The smoother
Yet now, out in the long summer of sun
The wood is dry
Cracks are widening
Yes, there is a scent
Of eucalyptus, though
I fear the timber needs more than a whiff
I myself bask in the sunlight
Listen to the laughter
In the nearby tearoom
Where once, so I fancifully presume
The artisan craftsman
Took his well-deserved breaks
Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
Monday, 1 April 2019
Sunday, 31 March 2019
Fifty One
I arrived early
Time to sit
Time to write
Time to wait
For the doctor’s telephone call
I have taken a photograph
Of the pond
With Lotus leaf
I have made a video
Of the waterfall splashing
There is another notebook
I bought it in Royal Tunbridge Wells
It is a smaller affair
Which encourages me
To write shorter poems
Yet this book carries with it
An authenticity
For with this book there was planning
Now there will be execution
Time to sit
Time to write
Time to wait
For the doctor’s telephone call
I have taken a photograph
Of the pond
With Lotus leaf
I have made a video
Of the waterfall splashing
There is another notebook
I bought it in Royal Tunbridge Wells
It is a smaller affair
Which encourages me
To write shorter poems
Yet this book carries with it
An authenticity
For with this book there was planning
Now there will be execution
Saturday, 30 March 2019
Fifty
Cloud of blue
Cloud of grey
Watching the bus passengers
Go on their way
Cases of brown
Cases of black
Watching the luggage
Beginning to stack
Eyes of azure
Eyes of magenta
Watching the students
Follow their mentor
Bench of wood
Bench of stone
Watching the raindrops
Casually turn to storm
Roof of tile
Roof of slate
Watching serfdom
Become with estate
Field of brown
Field of green
Watching the ploughman
Go where he’s never been
Cloud of grey
Watching the bus passengers
Go on their way
Cases of brown
Cases of black
Watching the luggage
Beginning to stack
Eyes of azure
Eyes of magenta
Watching the students
Follow their mentor
Bench of wood
Bench of stone
Watching the raindrops
Casually turn to storm
Roof of tile
Roof of slate
Watching serfdom
Become with estate
Field of brown
Field of green
Watching the ploughman
Go where he’s never been
Friday, 29 March 2019
Forty Nine
There is dark
There is light
The custodian’s arse
Is rather tight
It is stark
It is might
The earl so sparse
He lacked insight
The morning lark
Was in plain sight
Oystercatchers depart
With little flight
From Orkney to Sark
With emotional fright
The mind’s eye starts
With unusual plight
That day in the park
Riding the village bike
Following those carts
Flying your new-found kite
There is light
The custodian’s arse
Is rather tight
It is stark
It is might
The earl so sparse
He lacked insight
The morning lark
Was in plain sight
Oystercatchers depart
With little flight
From Orkney to Sark
With emotional fright
The mind’s eye starts
With unusual plight
That day in the park
Riding the village bike
Following those carts
Flying your new-found kite
Thursday, 28 March 2019
Forty Eight
Eternal love
Will I not be unseated
Unfaithful love
May I not be defeated
Eternal love
I will not be deceitful
Unrequited love
May I not be in receipt
Eternal love
Will I ever be completed
Unborn love
May I not repeat
Eternal love
I will be eventful
Unbending love
May I be plentiful
Will I not be unseated
Unfaithful love
May I not be defeated
Eternal love
I will not be deceitful
Unrequited love
May I not be in receipt
Eternal love
Will I ever be completed
Unborn love
May I not repeat
Eternal love
I will be eventful
Unbending love
May I be plentiful
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