How might I save my love
For all of the love that I have known
How might I live a life of love
Embracing all of the love that I have known
Should the day begin with the early morning
In joyful supported meditations, opening my eyes
As the light enters from the darkness
Opening my soul; thankful that I am who I am
Monday, 4 November 2019
Sunday, 3 November 2019
Vigils II
To hear the Latin is a privilege
Also a route, a pathway
To one who I also know loved the Latin
Might I one day learn a few words
Explore the translated feelings of care and love
Ego autem diligunt te, quia te amo, ego amare
Also a route, a pathway
To one who I also know loved the Latin
Might I one day learn a few words
Explore the translated feelings of care and love
Ego autem diligunt te, quia te amo, ego amare
Saturday, 2 November 2019
Vigils I
How lucky I am
To begin my day this way
To see, and hear, and feel the joy
Of the monks; praying, and chanting, and singing
O come let us adore him
O come let us adore him
Odd that I should pitch my focus
On the thirteen amp twin sockets
A metaphor for a working life I knew so well
A switch into a life I really don’t know so so well at all
World without end
World without end
To begin my day this way
To see, and hear, and feel the joy
Of the monks; praying, and chanting, and singing
O come let us adore him
O come let us adore him
Odd that I should pitch my focus
On the thirteen amp twin sockets
A metaphor for a working life I knew so well
A switch into a life I really don’t know so so well at all
World without end
World without end
Friday, 1 November 2019
Alarm
I’m up for Vigils at 6:45
I thought it used to be earlier
Maybe that was in BST
I have showered, made a cup of tea
Looked at a print of Bridge of Sighs
As painted by JMW Turner
I did not sleep well
But no less well than at home
Or in that more traditional stop-over hotel
On the way down here
I thought it used to be earlier
Maybe that was in BST
I have showered, made a cup of tea
Looked at a print of Bridge of Sighs
As painted by JMW Turner
I did not sleep well
But no less well than at home
Or in that more traditional stop-over hotel
On the way down here
Thursday, 31 October 2019
In The Middle Of The Night
She never did forgive him
Whatever were his sins
She gave them time to turn
She stoked their fire to burn
Hoping that he might learn
As with stiffness lent to stern
He never did let go
Whatever he thought he’d show
He did this so so many times
He wrote it out, rehearsed his lines
Looked everywhere for the signs
Became the one with the oft repeated rhymes
They never did make a fist
However long they kissed
They were from different grounds
They danced while displaying sounds
They were in the lost and found
Boundless simply to be around
Whatever were his sins
She gave them time to turn
She stoked their fire to burn
Hoping that he might learn
As with stiffness lent to stern
He never did let go
Whatever he thought he’d show
He did this so so many times
He wrote it out, rehearsed his lines
Looked everywhere for the signs
Became the one with the oft repeated rhymes
They never did make a fist
However long they kissed
They were from different grounds
They danced while displaying sounds
They were in the lost and found
Boundless simply to be around
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