One

No need for fire-pit
Or chimaera
For the sun brings twenty-seven degrees
And a rather blue
Blue sky

When is the time to prune trees
Asks the novice gardener
Yet
As he asks no one but himself
The conversation gradually passes

Looking through the grasses
Looking through the bushes
Catching the sun’s last reflection
Feeling into
The listless breeze

Water is the echo
Or so it seems
Of the ways and means
Spot the flies which settle
Pulling at your shirtsleeve seams

The big bird flies the skyline
Followed by the vapours
From the fading jet streams
The swallows show off real fine
Show gliding as the way to dream

The dusk is in the stillness
As the evening primrose opens
And the thermals wait awhile
So still then now the stillness
Only the moment makes to move

Available on Amazon

Christopher's Collected Works Website

Features

Clear water splashes
On the carefully placed statue
Meanwhile
The chocolate bar wrappers
Blow off the table

Even without forensic evidence
Or access to DNA testing
The poet could be considered culpable
And therefore named
As the number one suspect

And he is ok with that
For being named number one at anything
Is a step forward
Although it is true he did not hide
The individual Apple Loaves

He cannot now find the very same
Instead he drinks his tea
Watches the bubbles of the fountain
Turn into circular ripples
Across the pond’s surface

All the while
Listening to the water cascading
Down the irregular
Collection of stones
Which make up the main display

Available on Amazon

Christopher's Collected Works Website

Considerations

Will the pond be full by the morning
Will it be full by October
Is the overgrown greenery
Ever to be calmed

Might the sound of the waterfall
Keep evil spirits at bay
Such as my dark sides
Such as my depressive depths

Are the pebbles simply pebbles
Or do they bring
The energy of the oceans
Their stories of the seas

Such that as the day turns on
We will turn on with it
As waves rising and falling
As tides ebbing and flowing

Knowing full well
That it is we ourselves
Who transport we ourselves
Back and forth as we choose

Wearing whatever we wish
To suit the tremulous times
When all that we hope for
Is almost within our reaching

Available on Amazon

Christopher's Collected Works Website

Launch

I don’t approach my own unease with any certainty, more I let the weight of the occasion set me towards a standstill or a standoff.

Grey sky
Lively swallow
Or swift
Grey sky
Calm fellow
With this gift

One happy insect
Among perhaps a billion
Takes off from my page
Into the great grey yonder

Excepting
That the sun breaks through
Summer returns
Yet hardly with a vengeance
Instead we have twenty-one degrees
And no sign of the blue sky

My standstill, or my standoff, or my simply doing nothing comes at me with ease, the weight of this occasion you see is so so easily borne.

Available on Amazon

Christopher's Collected Works Website

Those Who Have

This is, a mother and daughter
Or a sister and sister
Or a friend and friend
Or a partner and partner occasion

This is middle-class England
Though with quite a few
Who attempt to carry off the style
Without the ways and means

Strawberries for elevenses
Champagne and caviar for lunch
Be caught by the mobile TV cameras
In our silk and linen low-cut frocks

Too busy for relaxation
Too relaxed for work
They pull the pull-along baskets
Taking their flowers home

Yes it is pretentious
The North’s version of the South
Yes it is contemptuous
When it is still Love on the Dole

Available on Amazon

Christopher's Collected Works Website