Locked In

I had to walk
In the water
I had to sit
On the rocks
I had to remember
Atrium Prestige this way
I had no need of escape
For I was here already
I had the space
The ambiance
The good feeling

Listen
You can hear the waves
Look
You can see the sky
Define the horizon
Feel, can you feel
As the breeze
Wisps your hair
As the shower
Washes your feet

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Christopher's Collected Works Website

Trip

Lips kiss the walls
Stalls sell overpriced gowns
Down and down we go, into the town

Up and up some more
To the Acropolis
To the drop off bus terminus

Blacker than black
The thicker than treacle
Americano

Oh how blue your sea
Oh how clear your water
Oh how hot your sun

Seventeen stairs to step
Three floors in the lift
To sand and seawater

Splash of wave
Breath of breeze
Horizon far distant

As if to be
Is to be
Outside of my concentration

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Christopher's Collected Works Website

Day

Today we go to the mountain
Today we go to the town
Today it is your birthday
And so I wish you all my love

I scour the water
I scour the sands
I scour for you everywhere
To wish you all of my love

I watch the divers
Beginning their lessons
I watch the animated couple
As I similarly wish you all of my love

Today the bougainvillaea
Today the dragonfly
Today the forces of nature
Turn to wish you all my love

I am embedded
I am grateful
I am mindful
That today I wish you all of my love

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Christopher's Collected Works Website

Game

One man
And one more man
Are needed

This kind of pitch
This kind of attack
This kind of quality

Young man
And one more young man
Are imperative

This kind of day
This kind of summer
This kind of tomorrow

En ger land
En ger land
En ger land

This kind of music
This kind of conversation
This kind of usual debate

One man
And one more younger man
To free up this old man

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Christopher's Collected Works Website

Wellbeing

Sunday afternoon
On the sun lounger
Listening to the cricket
Welcoming the breeze
As it gently arrives
Over our swim-up pool

I am thinking
Of the cotton on the bog
During our Ireland vacation
Thinking of that because of
The poet who wrote
Of bog and clay and mud

All as a part
Of absolute solitude
All as a function
Of deep translation
All as a quest
Of self-understanding

With wave after wave after wave
Beyond clay-tiled rooftops
Clay being
Where the working life began
Clay being
Where working life is no more

Blue after blue after blue
In ever decreasing shades
Blue being
Where the love of life began
Blue being
Where love of life carries on

Available on Amazon

Christopher's Collected Works Website