Robust

Me and one other
And no monks at all
But it is early
Still five minutes to go
Though
If this was football
One wouldn’t expect a big crowd
Even under floodlights

The bells ring
The monks arrive
Including the one
Who I thought to be not very well
My impatience goes before me
The monks are reaching ten
But still no one else
In the congregation
And it is now straight up eight o’clock
The official new starting time for Compline

We kick off (pardon the pun)
A few moments late
This time we are easily outnumbered
And are no match for the men in gowns
Do not give the devil this opportunity
Is the message from the pulpit
Which could have been Bill Shankly’s
Very words, for his team’s encouragement

Available at Amazon

See more of Christopher's work Here

Curfew

This room
Could easily have
A three-quarters
Or double-bed

I could happily invite you two
To stay the night
To make a right mess
Of my settled phase of life

Of course I shouldn’t invite you
For way too many rules
Would have to be broken in the process
But wouldn’t it just be fun

I doubt it would even work again
To ask you out on a date
Even with the men in black
As my supporting act

So that’s that then
Leave things as they are
Don’t disturb the peace
Don’t be made a scapegoat

Available at Amazon

See more of Christopher's work Here

Latecomer

Are my words blasphemous
Or simply observations
With a sideways swipe
At the sadness of it all

I am writing of letting go
Whilst these rascals
Are surely simply hanging on

It is not on is it
To turn up at the very end
That doesn’t count as attendance
In anybody’s book

And certainly not in mine

Available at Amazon

See more of Christopher's work Here

Logarithmic Rise And Fall

I sit quietly
Wait for the light to fade
I am in no hurry
My days work is done
The rest is playtime

I am settled
More so than expected
No anxiety
In visiting these parts
As there was in the past

That though could all be transitory
For tomorrow I venture closer
To the centre of the fault line
Nearer to the focal point
Of that previous past universe

I know I should not worry
What isn’t already forgotten
Is ever more certain to disappear
In the certain fullness of time
In the single pointedness of duty

Available at Amazon

See more of Christopher's work Here

Over The Walls

Seven in the congregation
(Including moi)
Eight monks, plus the organist

We could have
A one-on-one communion
Except a man with dark glasses joins us

The old stooped monk is not present
And the new one, new to my sight at least, is bald
In the way I imagine cancer patients are

Besides the baldness
There is an awful lot of silvery grey
On parade in the choir stalls

With six men
And two women present
I wonder does man

Have more to fear
Or worry about than woman
Or are the ladies home cooking tea

The roof has nine crossed curved arches
Plus ten
Straight-across curved ones

But that is only in the knave
For sure
There will be more elsewhere

Is the lectern in the style
Of an eagle or an angel
And do they know that Donald Trump is in the country

Available at Amazon

See more of Christopher's work Here